The Last of the Valar
by ArcheroftheLight
Summary: An oath sworn. A sword shattered. A heart torn. She's been here for over 17,000 years, and it's finally time for her to show her worth. She may just have to sacrifice a little along the way. Adonneniel, the once-Vala, must become who she was born to be-by helping of the Fellowship, of course. Suck at summaries! I promise the story is better. Aragorn/OC
1. Prologue

I'd like to get some things out of the way before we begin.

1. Yes, my OC is going to seem a bit Mary-Sueish at first, but that'll quickly change.

2. This is going to be an AragornXOC story, so if you don't like OCs, this isn't for you, and if you like Arwen, then yeah, you probably won't like this.

3. Please R&R, this is my first fanfic and I'd love some support.

4. The prologue is in 3rd person, but only because it gives it an air of mystery. Most of the story will be in 1st person, sorry for those who don't like it.

Thanks,

Archer

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything relating to the Lord of the Rings. I only own my OC. Sadly.**

3rd person POV

The hooded maiden had come in the night, stealing into Rivendell under the cover of darkness. The guards hadn't seen her-no one did when she willed it so. She strolled down the dark halls with grace, almost as if she had walked through the dimly lit corridors her entire life. Not a single Man, Elf, or other creature crossed her path, but she knew what lay waiting in the darkness. And she did not like it _one bit_.

Elrond was up late, reading into the early hours of the morning. Not only was he an elf, and therefore required virtually no rest, but he was also anticipating the Council the next day. Now that the hobbit who had carried the evil here, Frodo Baggins, was awake, the meeting of the (potentially) last free realms of Middle Earth could take place. For the Lord of Rivendell, it was certainly enough to stay awake on. Thus, it was he who would meet the hooded maiden first.

She silently strode to his door, knocking on the carved wood a single time, knowing he would hear it. A tad confused, Elrond cautiously opened the door, recovering his knowing look immediately once he saw who was there. He welcomed her with open arms, and the greeted each other in rapid Elvish once the door had closed again.

"_My old friend, what brings you back to this fair city?"_

The maiden kept her hood on, sinking down into a chair by the fire. Elrond, even with his sharp eyes, could barely make out the features underneath the cloak.

_"Dark things dwell in the heart of Imladris, Elrond. The same evil spreads across the land, drawing the attention of all its protectors."_

He sat down opposite her, nodding solemnly.

_"I know of what you speak, but we can do naught to stop it, save what will occur in the Council this morrow."_

She glanced up, a pale chin illuminated by the fire's light.

_"I had forgotten that your eyes could gaze into the future, friend, as do mine-though less frequently. Tell me, Elrond. What can you see?"_

He glanced at her sharply, before his wise eyes clouded over.

_"I see death, Adonneniel. Accompanying it will be pain, suffering, and…hope."_

She inhaled sharply, and she instantly knew what he spoke of.

_"Estel is here?"_

He half-smiled.

_"Where else would he be, Swiftarrow? He speaks like us, acts like us, and has even begun to look like an elf!"_

She chuckled. Elrond raised an eyebrow at her, and spoke again.

_"Perhaps it will do Estel good to see his mentor again."_

Adonneniel smirked at him, her face fully in the light now, flames revealing a mischievous sparkle in her green eyes.

_"Perhaps? No, Lord Elrond, I soundly believe it is high time for him to get his rump back into training. Trust me, I don't intend to go easy on the young scoundrel, heir of Isildur or not!"_

He laughed along with her, their voices carrying on in friendly banter as the sun began to break over the horizon.


	2. Chapter 1

**Bolded** = thought-speaking

**DISCLAIMER: Yeah, I don't own LotR. **

Adonneniel POV

So, this is the mysterious Master Frodo Baggins. Well, he doesn't look like much, I thought to myself, examining the hobbit.

One of only two hobbits to attend this great Council, Frodo was quite honored, and he looked like he knew it. Next to his uncle, Bilbo Baggins, it was easy to tell he was young for his kind, even if I hadn't already known all about hobbits. Oh, and did I know about _that_ race.

Amusement traveling through my eyes, I gazed at the rest of the group who had gathered to listen to my old friend. Dwarves, Elves, Men, Hobbits, and…

My inner rambling drifted off as I realized who I was staring at, mostly because he had seen me. Then again, I could never hide from that old Maia. I grinned and mentally waved to him.

**My oldest friend!** I cried in my mind, knowing he would hear me. **I haven't seen you in centuries…no, millennia! Everything alright on your side of the woods?**

** Why is it that no matter how serious the concept matter is, you manage to make it seem as if a joke, Adonneniel? **

I snorted aloud, causing Elrond to look at me quizzically. I rolled my eyes at him and made a vague motion towards the wizard on the other side of the room. He picked up on it and nodded.

**By the Valar, Gandalf, is that the only welcome I'm going to get?**

** Tis unwise to swear by yourself, and yes, because the meeting's starting. Sometimes, Adonneniel, you remind of a child. Or a hobbit.**

I took that into consideration and winked in agreement, before turning my attention to the Lord next to me.

Or, somewhat of my attention. I already knew everything that was going on, because clearly almost no one here had had enough training to block out their thoughts. Only Gandalf, Elrond, me of course, some of the elves, and a certain Ranger could do that here.

Speaking of that Ranger…

He hadn't even seen me yet, let alone recognize me. I pursed my lips, analyzing the man in front of me. It had been nearly seventy years since I had seen him last, and it looked like he had been training well, despite my absence. Yet now, he was no longer a foolish boy, and instead a man with some sort of hidden wisdom behind his piercing grey eyes.

This might be different, I thought to myself.

I saw his right hand grip the air, knowing that it was because of a reflex to grab his sword. I observed the muscle in his forehead twitch, seeing that it was a nervous habit, one he unconsciously performed whenever deep in thought. Smiling, I recognized the sweep of his nose, the unruly dark hair, and the agile limbs of a hunter. This was still Aragorn as I had known him, just with a few more years of age and scars.

He stiffened, and I knew that all of my training had paid off when he felt my gaze on him. Crossing my leg on top of the other and tilting my head so the grey hood covered my face, I waited as his chilly glare focused on the shadows where I hid.

Aragorn furrowed his brow, trying to will his eyes to see past the grey cloak that blended with the shade. I rolled my eyes under the cover of darkness, knowing only an elf could see me, and though he sometimes wished he was one, Aragorn was most certainly a Man. Who he was, however, was not something my student wanted to accept before, and he definitely held that same belief now. It just seemed like the world could only be saved if he embraced his destiny.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Now, that got my attention. Biting my lip, I felt the pull of the Ring, heard its voice calling to me.

**Come back to me, Echo. **

I hissed quietly, full of anger and determination. No, I was not Echo anymore. No.

**It's useless, Echo. You have always been drawn to me. You know my power, and you know you are strong enough to wield me. It is your place to return to the Lord. Come, Echo.**

** NO! **I shouted mentally, setting up a mental block.

**Echo…** _it _called.

I had nearly lost control, nearly been ready to dive back into my old identity. It would've just taken a little push…

But my savior, who was always there for me, drew me out of my head. Gandalf said the words of the Black Speech, ones I knew by heart and understood just as well. I could speak that evil tongue too, but even I didn't have the audacity to do it in front of Elrond.

Who, by the way, looked _pissed_.

"Never before has one dared to speak that cruel tongue in my house!"

Just like that, my attention span is completely wasted. Curiously, I looked towards the Gondorian who had been lured into _it's_ trap as well. I hadn't noticed his outburst before, for obvious reasons, but now he was in for it. He said something about using it for Gondor, and Aragorn spoke for the first time.

"You cannot wield it! None of us can. It answers to Sauron, and Sauron alone."

I clicked my tongue in agreement, making Elrond glance at me for a second.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

Annoyed, I opened my mouth to defend my student, but Prince Legolas of Mirkwood cut me to it. Raising an eyebrow, I looked between the two of them, and saw the bonds of a deep friendship. I dipped my head approvingly, and remained silent. Actually, I was quite glad I hadn't unleashed my tongue, because Boromir (as I learned his name was) had extremely amusing thoughts.

**That stupid elf. Why do all elves act like they are so high and mighty? And… Aragorn, is it? Well, he may be of a Kingly bloodline, but he isn't nearly as Kinglike as any real citizen of Gondor! Oh, Gondor… Why did I leave you to come here? Urgh. Stupid elves!**

I chuckled, catching the glare of Elrond again. He just shook his head at me, and I realized that the entire Council had erupted into argument. I rolled my eyes. _Males_.

In fact, the only person who wasn't arguing with anybody else was Frodo. He seemed to be having an inner disagreement, to tell the truth. I heard his thoughts loud and clear over the chaos of the rest.

**This is terrible. The Ring could bring the Shire burning down, and I vowed to save the Shire, so I should volunteer for it. Or shouldn't I? I'm just a hobbit. Hobbits don't go on adventures.**

Sensing his need of council, I focused my gaze on him and spoke without uttering a single word.

**Greetings, Frodo Baggins.**

He looked around, wide-eyed. I smiled.

**My name is Adonneniel, among other titles. I'm just here to offer advice, since I heard your little quarrel with yourself. **

He gasped, and looked a bit frightened.

**C-can I talk to you like this?**

I laughed, both aloud and in his mind.

**Yes, Master Baggins. Now, take some advice from an old traveler. I can see your strength, Master Frodo. It gleams and glows through your eyes and the tenderness of your heart. Hobbits are a hardy breed, and you in particular are special. Whether that trait is put to use or not is up to you, and no one else may decide. But should you decide you are ready, I will guard and guide you till my final breath. **

He looked shaken, then took a deep breath.

**Thank you, Lady Adonneniel. But please, call me Frodo.**

I winked from my spot in the shadows, sending the thought of that to him.

**Then I insist you refer to me as Nen, Frodo.**

Frodo stood up, swallowing down his fear.

"I will take it! I will take it! But…I do not know the way…"

I nodded at him, knowing that was what he was going to decide all along. Gandalf immediately moved to his side, and Aragorn, Legolas, and a dwarf named Gimli (who had tried to harm the Ring earlier) joined him. I made to stand, but Boromir beat me to it. I could sense the rest of the hobbits climbing out from the hiding places, but it was my time to make a scene. I stood up and walked confidently out of the shadows.

"I promised you that I would guard and guide you until my final breath, young hobbit. And I will not break my vow so easily."

Frodo smiled and nodded, and Gandalf gazed at me with a twinkle in his old blue eyes. To my amusement, the other members of the Company looked curious, startled, angry, or a mixture of all three.

"Who speaks so boldly? Uncover the hood, let us know if you are friend or foe!" shouted Boromir.

I rolled my eyes at him and placed a hand on my hip.

"Boromir, son of the Steward, yes? I have not had the….er…pleasure of meeting your family yet. That's something rather extraordinary, considering how long I've walked this land."

"And how long might that be?" questioned Legolas, who was gazing at me, curiosity shining through his eyes.

"You may think yourself old, Legolas Thranduilion, but to me, most of the people here are barely older than children. I've known Lord Elrond here since he was born, and I came to Middle Earth many, many centuries before that. I suppose I am around…17,000 years old."

Most of the Council gasped, or at least looked surprised. Gandalf didn't even twitch a muscle, probably because he was even older than I was. I turned back to face Boromir, who still looked suspicious.

"I'd tell you my name, Boromir, but it's not safe enough yet. Elrond, if you don't mind, I'm going to improve your security _just a little bit_."

Despite my words, I didn't wait for the elf's approval. Instead, I tapped the bracelet on my right arm, hearing amazed noises come from around me as it turned into my beloved staff. I had carved it myself many centuries ago, engraving words of power and wisdom into the beautiful oak, and placing my treasured stone at the top. This stone was the last relic of my home that hadn't been tainted, and it was called Belthil (divine radiance). Anyway, I murmured the elvish tongue, whipping my staff in front of me. Of course, the spell worked, and a shimmering layer of magic cut off the pavilion from the rest of the world, safe from prying eyes.

I felt my stamina slow, and I nearly dropped the spell in surprise. Gandalf noticed this, but said nothing, only looking on with concern. Taking a calming breath, I faced the distrusting faces once more.

"My name is, among others, Adonneniel Swiftarrow. I've been called far worse and far better, but this is my current one. I'm not of the Elves, or of the Men, or of the Dwarves. Nor am I like the Hobbits, Dragons, Ents, Orcs, Goblins, or anything else you could possibly think of. In truth, I am most like Gandalf, though I am not quite the same. I was once, and this was a long time ago, mind you, but I was once of the Valar."

If anyone hadn't been surprised yet, they were now astonished. The only ones who didn't even seem interested by this knowledge were Gandalf and Elrond, of course. Aragorn furrowed his brow, deep in thought. I grinned.

"Perhaps this will aid your memory, Aragorn son of Arathorn."

He cautiously looked at me, suspicion in his gray eyes. I smirked, and pulled down my hood to reveal my features.


	3. Chapter 2

I just wanted to thank everyone for their support! It makes me write faster, you know.

**Disclaimer: I, as usual, don't own the Lord of the Rings. Sigh. **

Aragorn POV

The second the maiden had stood up, I had felt a flash of recognition, but could not put any memories to her stance or her name. It grew in my stomach, tossing and turning, begging me to figure out where I had heard that voice before. Once she took off her hood, everything came rushing back to me.

Her hair, glistening in the sunlight, was a golden-streaked brown, and it grew in long waves down to her waist. She had lightly tanned skin, with a few brown freckles dotting a small nose. She grinned at me, white teeth on pale pink lips. However, the things that really caught my attention were her eyes. They seemed to change color, rotating between a green-speckled hazel to a deep, emerald green. They were mesmerizing, and impossible to forget.

That's when it hit me.

"Eru above," I whispered, awe-struck. "Nen! What... How?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, did you learn nothing from those long days I trained you, Aragorn? I show up in the strangest places at the strangest times. By the way, your form has completely deteriorated."

That was definitely the Nen I knew. I sighed and shook my head.

"Now don't you get all high-and-mighty on me! You may be 70 years older, but so am I! Though, that doesn't really matter, considering I've still got 16,952 years on you."

Yes, she hadn't changed a bit. I laughed and pulled her in for an embrace. She smiled and patted my shoulder before pulling away, her cheeks a little pink from yelling. Or, at least, that's what I thought it was from. I was a bit tied up with another feeling rising from my chest, one I hadn't felt in a while. I got a similar feeling with another, but-

Boromir's voice drew me out of my brooding.

"A woman?"

Nen turned around, her gaze narrowing, eyes shifting to a very dark green. I clenched my fist, shaking my head at Boromir in warning. If he didn't stop now, bad things were going to happen.

"It is folly to take a woman on a quest of this danger!"

Nen stalked up to him, and a breeze started to pick up. I hung my head and prayed to the Valar he would stop right now.

"_Excuse me?_" she hissed, clearly furious, her eyes looking close to black.

Boromir had no idea what he was getting into.

"You heard me clearly, maiden."

Gandalf pressed his palm to his face, and I mimicked him, groaning. Legolas and Gimli looked at us curiously, and I just sighed. The first thing I had learned about Nen? She had no tolerance for men who believed she couldn't fight because of her gender.

She was going to teach this Gondorian a lesson.

"I will not be _taken _anywhere, Captain of the White Tree. I am no simple maiden, but a warrior and protector of Middle Earth. It is my duty, as it is yours, to guard the Ringbearer. You underestimate me, fool. I have tasted darkness, felt the suffering of a thousand men, and come back multiple times to fight for the will of good. I have given up everything to save this world, and I do not intend to abandon my goal for the foolish whims of a naïve _child_!"

She spat out the last word, turning on her heel to stand beside Frodo. The hobbit looked at her with respect and awe, while Boromir looked well…frightened. I bit my lip, hiding a smirk. I had had the same expression as he did when I had first met her.

Suddenly, a bush rustled, and I went to grab for my sword, but a light hand stopped me. I looked up and saw it was Nen, who was shaking her head, all violence gone from her eyes and an amused look replacing it.

**You never learn, Aragorn. Sometimes, sounds in the night don't come from monsters.**

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced back to see Samwise Gamgee racing into the center of the courtyard.

"I don't know what you all were yellin' about back then, but I do know that Mr. Frodo isn't goin' anywhere without me!"

"I should think not," said Elrond, who only looked mildly entertained by the whole business. "You accompanied him to a meeting that he was invited to, but you were not."

"Oi, you big folk! We're coming too!" shouted two new voices.

I turned, bewildered to meet the rosy faces of Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took coming out from their hiding places as well.

"Yup. You're going to need someone with brains on this…umm…quest…mission…thing!" contributed the latter.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip."

I sighed. Hobbits.

"So be it! Ten companions…you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" declared Elrond.

"Right, then! But, uh, where are we going?" blurted Pippin again.

I looked at him in exasperation, before meeting Nen's sparkling gaze over the top of his head. She began to laugh, a loud, very unladylike chuckle, and I couldn't help but laugh along with her.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I cannot tell a lie, I still do not own the Lord of the Rings. I do, however, own Nen. *le sigh***

And now, the long awaited, complete, and sad backstory of Adonneniel Swiftarrow. Also known as Chapter 3.

Adonneniel POV

"Oh, you can do better than that! On your feet, you sorry excuse for a student!" I yelled.

Aragorn glowered at me, frustration etched across his features. I bit down a laugh, before giving him a hand to help him up, but he stubbornly refused it. I had just beaten him in a swords match, and though I had won, it had been no easy feat. I wasn't going to let him know that, of course.

"Nen, I swear. One of these days, someone is going to teach you that there is only so far you can push a man."

I stopped holding in my chuckle, and effectively laughed in his face. He growled and reached for my ankle, but I lightly skipped out of the way, infuriating him.

"OH, YOU HAVE ASKED FOR IT, YOU INSUFFERABLE, ARROGANT-"

I rolled my eyes before interrupting his rather amusing speech, placing one of my curved swords to his neck. He stopped speaking, instead reverting back to glaring at me.

"Mmhmm. That's what I thought."

I rolled off of him, anticipating the anger-induced reflex to grab and flip me. He bolted up, grabbing his sword once again. I cocked my head, crossing both of my swords in front of me defensively.

"Bring it, mortal! HA!" I yelled, clanging my swords against his.

Roaring in fury, he increased the attack and began to forget about defense. I smiled slyly, dodging his blade before dropping to the ground, somersaulting through his open legs, and tripping him in the process. Quick as a flash, I kicked his back to the ground and stood over him. He tried to get up, but I placed a boot to his spine, causing him to grunt as his face collided with the ground. He stopped struggling, the breath whooshing from his lungs as he held his palms open in surrender.

"That's what I've been trying to teach you, Aragorn. You let your feelings cloud your judgment," I stated, pulling him up. "It's almost just as treacherous as blanking out during a fight. Let not your anger control you."

He pursed his lips before hanging his head in defeat. I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You have gotten better, Estel. _Much _better."

Aragorn half-smiled before copying my position, placing his opposite hand on my other shoulder.

"While you haven't changed at all."

I removed my hand, forming a fist and punching his forearm. He wrinkled his nose at me, and I grinned again.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

He winked at me, and we began to walk towards the Hall of Fire, laughing and sharing stories. I was in the middle of telling him one of my amusing adventures in Lothlórien, when he froze, gazing into the distance. Confused, I followed his strange gaze to where it landed on an elleth I actually knew. It was Arwen, Elrond's daughter. Frowning, I watched as she gave him an icy glare before stalking off, and intense grief covered his eyes. Concerned, I sat down on a nearby bench, pulling him down next to me.

He sighed, burying his face in his hands. I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, wanting to know what was wrong. Aragorn once again stubbornly refused it, shuffling across the stone bench to get away from me. He looked up, his gray eyes watery, and I instantly realized this was not an ordinary quarrel.

"Tell me what she did to you, Aragorn, so I can punish her accordingly."

A bit of his old spunk came back, annoyance briefly crossing his face before he collapsed again into sorrow.

"Don't, Nen. It's not her fault," he whispered, making me scowl.

"If you don't tell me right now, I'll just have to go into someone's mind to find it."

He gawked at me.

"You wouldn't."

I narrowed my eyes.

**Are you positive about that?**

Groaning, he banged his head against his palm, before taking a deep breath and turning to me. I might have been new to the job of emotional counselor, but even I could tell he was about to spill everything.

"ItoldArwenIlovedherandshedid n'tlovemebackbutIkissedheronth ebridgeandshesaidwhywouldIev erloveyou,you'reahumanbutIreallydolovehera ndnowshe'smadandI'mheartbrokenandIdon'tknowwhattodo."

He inhaled heavily, and I realized he had said all of that in one breath. I sighed, placing my hand over his.

"She doesn't deserve you, Aragorn."

He opened his mouth, dumbfounded. I smiled softly, and patted his hand before removing my own.

"Trust me. I knew you when you were barely seventeen, and even then, you had more honor than most of the men that you passed by. You're humble, courageous, way overprotective, and one of the best friends I've ever had. Arwen is the Evenstar, and so she's bound to think no one is good enough for her, but you, my friend, are on another level entirely. A little romantic trouble isn't going to bring you down."

He shook his head slowly, his gray eyes wide and unbelieving.

"I see you're going to need a little more proof. Well, Aragorn, would you like to hear a story about the Valar and the Maiar?"

He cleared his throat.

"I don't see how a fairy tale is going to relate to this situation."  
I quietly laughed.

"It's no myth, actually. It's history."

Intrigued, Aragorn gestured for me to continue.

"Many, many years ago, just after the Valar had released Melkor out of pity and mercy, happiness and peace reigned supreme. Little Nielíqui, the beautiful dancer, was the young daughter of Oromë, the Hunter of the Woods, and Vána, whose touch brought flowers springing forth. She was a naïve little Vala, who was foolish enough to believe everything that was told to her. So when she received a proposal of betrothal from the most powerful of the Maiar, she was overjoyed."

I inhaled shakily.

"She had no idea what was going to happen. The Maia began to court her immediately, and she fell in love with him, falling for his flimsy lies of returned adoration. After a short time, he asked her to run away with him, and she quickly agreed. They fled to the newly created Middle Earth, and she was so blinded by love that she did not see the tell-tale signs until it was too late. The Maia was actually working for Melkor, and they fed her lies of helping the "side of the good" by helping them rise to power. Little Nielíqui became vicious, power-craving, and as dark as night. She began to hate her past, and renamed herself Echo. She aided Melkor in stealing the Silmarils, destroying the Two Trees of the Valar, and evilly enjoyed the company of her "lover" and the newly renamed Morgoth."

I shivered, the memories coming flooding back.

"In the War of the Great Jewels, she fought for Morgoth, horrifying her parents and family. She hated them with all her heart, so what did it matter anymore? After much reluctance, the Valar decided to sever her ties to them, cutting the bond she had shared with the great Eru Ilúvatar. Consequently, she lost the source of her magic, though she had stored much up in her own body to last her thousands of years. Anyway, Echo remembered her past at that second, and saw all the terror and disgust her family had for her with her own eyes. She stopped hating them, and instead turned on herself. Fleeing, she cut off her connections to the Maia she 'loved' and Morgoth, punishing herself into banishment in the harsh deserts of the East."

"She wandered for many years, living off the few streams and living things she came across. As she was just about to give up all of her hope for survival, wanting to surrender to the darkness of death, a new form of hope appeared. An old man, in grey robes, a tall grey hat, and a withered staff. He taught her the ways of the good, teaching her to use her magic in the right way. He became her closest friend, and she his. In truth, he saved her from herself."

Aragorn murmured the name of the wizard under his breath, and I smiled.

"Yes, it was Gandalf. As I was saying, after all of this business, he informed her that evil had come to Middle Earth again, and the legions of elves and men needed aid in defeating Morgoth in the War of Wrath. She agreed to help them, and earned a new name in the battle after she had shown she truly had changed. After the war, however, she shrunk back into the shadows, seeking out trainers for the arts of swordfight and archery. She had realized that her magic was limited, and needed to obtain other ways to defend herself. After many years of training, the once-Vala was called to action once again. Sauron, servant of Morgoth, had tricked the Númenor into believing he had changed. The Faithful, led by Amandil, his son Elendil, and his grandsons Isildur and Anárion had fled to Middle Earth. She had felt Eru Ilúvatar destroy Sauron, but she also knew that his essence still dwelt in Mordor. She once again rose to the aid of the good, joining the Last Alliance to defeat the evil one. She defeated many on the battlefield, but became powerless once she saw Sauron, for she knew that this was the Maia she had fallen in love with. He wounded her both physically and emotionally, and slew Elendil and Gil-galad before she could do anything. Desperately, she called out to Elendil's son, Isildur, and he, using the hilt of Narsil, cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. And, well, you know what happens from there."

"The last part of her story comes with Isildur himself, when he was dying at Gladden Fields. She felt his call from across the land, and had come running until she was by the once-Ringbearer's side. As a dying wish, Isildur made her promise to protect his line and the future Ringbearers from the evil to which he had fallen. She swore on Eru himself, making it binding until the day she would die. At these words, Isildur's soul left his body, and she kept her promise until the current day."

Aragorn stared at me, before coughing a bit and speaking for the first time since I had began.

"What was her new name, Nen?"

I took a deep breath, and met his eyes.

"It means rebirth in Elvish."

His eyes filled with understanding, before he whispered a single word, one name I knew extremely well.

"Adonneniel."

I dipped my head.

"I continue to keep my promise, Aragorn. But, that was not what I was trying to teach you by telling you my story. I was trying to convey that everyone has troubles in love. Some, however, have more than others."

He inched closer, before wrapping his arms around me. I stiffened, surprised, but quickly returned the embrace. It had been a long time since I had last told my entire story, and all of the old emotions had come rushing back to me. I needed the hug.

Smiling, I pulled away and stood up. Aragorn stood beside me, and I playfully pushed him forwards, towards the Hall of Fire.

"Come, student. Now that we've told our secrets, I'm going to show some people how good I really am."


	5. Chapter 4

**ALRIGHT LETS ADDRESS SOME REVIEWERS!**

First off, I'd like to thank you for reviewing, whether to rant about how Nen is a total Mary-Sue or not, because it makes me feel just fine to know that you actually took the time to read this.

Second, I do know that she is a complete Mary-Sue. That's because she is a Vala. And I fully intend to point out her flaws, here are some:  
1. She cannot possibly act like a lady. She hates sewing, dresses, singing, and basically anything to do with it. Except for dancing.

2. She's stubborn as hell.

3. If she uses magic, her greatest strength, it literally kills her. Yeah, she's that old.

4. She will only accept comfort from four people- Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Aragorn. Anyone else she will completely turn down. Once again, she's stubborn as hell.

5. She hates herself (oh yes, I'll be writing about this later).

6. Because she hates herself, she doesn't see how anyone could accept her.

7. She may literally go insane some time. You'll just have to wait and see.

8. She gets a _little_ bit jealous sometimes.

9. She's not actually that pretty. She doesn't like, glow or anything.

Thirdly, I'd like to thank **Guest**. The one who didn't actually just give me praise, but criticized me as well. I took a look at the story you advised-it's bloody brilliant by the way. And as much as I'd love to say I'm a true fan who read _The Silmarillion_ and _The Children of Hurin _and everything, I'm not. I fell in love with the movies first, and then the books. I've never actually read anything besides _The Hobbit _and _The Lord of the Rings_. So, I'm going by what I can research online, and I found something on Wikipedia (yeah, yeah, I know, don't trust Wikipedia..blah blah blah) that said "when after a time Nielíqui, little maiden, danced about its woods." It is mentioned in the Appendix on Names that Nielíqui is the daughter of Oromë and Vána." (from wiki/Vala_%28Middle-earth%29) I'm a complete novice on this, so I'm really, really sorry, but you're not going to get anything amazing. It's my first fanfic, and I'm trying really hard. Go easy on me.

And, as always, thank you to my loyal reviewers, followers, and favoriters who I've PM'ed but never actually mentioned in here. You have ignored Nen's blunt Mary-Sueness, and my incredible noob-osity. I love you guys. Seriously.

Alright, I'm done ranting. Here's another chapter for you guys, in which you learn why I named her Swiftarrow. It's also for my bestie, who loved this idea because (AND I QUOTE) "Nen is just that awesome."

By the way, you're welcome for getting two chapters in a day.

**Disclaimer: I do (not) own Lord of the Rings. I do (not) own Lord of the Rings. I absolutely do (NOT) own Lord of the Rings. **

Adonneniel POV

We went into Elrond's hall, and I quickly felt the gaze of many upon me after my little outburst at the Council. Paying no attention, I strode up to the table which contained the hobbits, who were laughing over a great feast. Amazed, I watched for a second as the creatures inhaled the entire meal in a matter of seconds.

"That was incredible, gentlemen. I'll never cease to be amazed by the capabilities of a hobbit."

Frodo smiled at me, a beautiful thing that was happening less and less since he became Ringbearer.

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you can do, milady," said Peregrin Took with a mischievous grin.

I shook my head at the ridiculous Halfling.

"Are you challenging me to something, Master Peregrin?"

"Nobody calls me Peregrin, Lady, just Pippin is best. And yes, I am."

"Alright, Pippin. I hope you know what you're getting into. And none of that Lady business, I'm simply Nen."

He grinned, and I returned it, before Meriadoc, who I should probably start calling Merry, raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"I don't intend to interrupt the fun-fest, but Pip, what exactly is this challenge?"

Pippin opened his mouth, then thought better of it and closed it. I laughed, and the rest of the hobbits joined me. Aragorn chuckled from behind me, then crossed the room to go talk to Legolas.

"Mmm… A cook-off!"

"Pippin, I couldn't cook if my life depended on it. Nor can I sew, or embroider, or do anything ladylike, really. So, no."

He racked his brain for ideas, and I giggled at his expression.

"Uh…how about a singing contest?"

I stopped laughing and immediately shook my head.

"No, thank you! I am the worst singer you could possibly imagine."

The hobbits begged and pleaded, but I showed them my notoriously stubborn side. Once they gave up, Pippin looked so downcast I couldn't help but make him feel better.

"How about I show you all why the elves call me Swiftarrow?"

They cheered at that, and all of a sudden, I felt the presence of other figures behind me.

"May we watch, Lady Adonneniel? I admit to having the same curiosity as to the origin of your name," said a quiet voice.

I spun on my heel, coming face to face with the Prince of Mirkwood, and behind him, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, and…Boromir. I raised an eyebrow at the son of the Steward, and he quickly avoided my gaze. Ignoring the churning suspicion in my gut, I smiled at the elf.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Prince Legolas. I've heard much about your own excellence at the sport. How about a deal? I'll show you my skills, but you must first give a performance."

He looked mildly surprised, but quickly nodded. I led the way outside, the hobbits at my side, the rest following. I chatted with the Halflings, keeping an eye on Frodo. He looked a bit tired, and I was happy to see that Sam had taken it upon himself to look after his wellbeing. Once we had reached the archery range, I turned to see an exchange happening between the non-hobbits. Gandalf was leaning on his staff, a strange twinkle in his eyes as he talked to Boromir, Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn. Curious, I pretended to be lacing up my boots as I shared my thoughts with Gandalf.

**What exactly are you five talking about? **

He glanced quickly towards me, and I realized that he was hiding something.

**Nothing of your concern, Adonneniel.**

** I don't particularly enjoy the sound of that.**

The corners of his mouth perked up, but he sat down on a bench without responding. I pursed my lips, and finished with my boots to see the Prince ready to shoot. I strung my bow and motioned for him to begin.

Swiftly, the blonde elf hit a target in the exact center, before repeating the same result four times in a row. He began to run, picking up speed as he put two arrows to the string, hitting two higher targets with, once again, perfect aim. I felt my eyes widen in surprise, realizing that the Prince of Mirkwood was better than I had thought.

He continued to shoot, never tiring, until only a single target was left, the one behind him. Quickly turning, he pulled out another arrow. I watched, intrigued, as he nocked the final arrow too hastily, resulting in it hitting the target just outside the center circle. He scowled a bit at this, but bowed to the audience as we clapped. Once he had picked his seat next to Aragorn, I stood up, bow at the ready. They turned their eyes on me, but I ignored it, instead focusing on the beautiful feeling of the wood on my fingertips.

Softly inhaling, I pulled the string taut, gazing down the length of the arrow towards my target. I felt a soft breeze pick up, and I watched the white feathers of my arrow ruffle in it. My heart pounded in my chest, a soft, even beating to mark the passage of time by. I waited a second, catching my breath, and then I let go of the arrow.

Not waiting for the sound of the arrow hitting the target, I sprinted for the other ones, pulling three arrows out of my quiver swiftly. I had barely released the arrows before rushing to the next, hardly bothering to take aim. Using a nearby rock as leverage, I jumped into the air, twisting to hit the target adjacent to me. The dance continued for a few moments, as I hit every single one without faltering. Finally, I had reached the end, the one target Legolas had missed. Feeling like showing off, I didn't turn to face the target, instead aiming the bow backwards. The arrow flew from my fingertips, and I heard it hit the target with a soft thud.

I felt my chest rise and fall, trying to get as much air in my lungs as possible, and I looked to see if I had hit it accurately.

It had hit the exact center of the target.

Smiling smugly, I turned to see the Prince of Mirkwood staring at me in disbelief. I laughed at his expression, and he grinned slowly before bowing to me. I, in turn, bowed to him, knowing that it had been the closest of matches. The elf was a true master of the bow.

"Pay up, elf," said a gruff voice next to me.

I curiously met the gaze of Gimli, who was gesturing with a hand pointed at Legolas. The elf sighed, and passed him a gold coin. From the corner of my eye, I could see Gandalf doing the same thing to Boromir, and Aragorn clutching something gold in his hand as well. Suddenly understanding, I wrinkled my nose at them.

"I can't believe you placed bets on me! Even the hobbits wouldn't do that! Would you, gentlemen?"

Turning around, I was met with four pairs of eyes, two of which were looking sheepishly at the ground. I shook my head at Merry and Pippin.

"I stand corrected," I murmured, going off to retrieve my arrows while the rest of the Fellowship either rejoiced at victory or groaned in defeat.


	6. Chapter 5

Hey, guys. Sorry for the tantrum last chapter. I was feelin' a little low.

And now, to make it up for you, I shall put two chapters out today. (Also because this one's short.)

**Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out by now (and if this is the case, I'm extremely disappointed) I actually do not own Lord of the Rings.**

Adonneniel POV

If you've never dreamt about the future, than you've never had a true nightmare. Sure, it's terrifying when you're about to die from a warg attack, but it's a thousand times worse when you know it could actually happen.

So, that's why I was still awake much later than I should have been the night before we left Rivendell.

_The goblins had gone, crawling back into the caverns and dark places from whence they came. The large hall was dim, the huge carved columns blocking my vision every time I looked around. Searching for the reason why the foul creatures had left, I turned my gaze to a strange entrance to the dark hall, and saw it was beginning to fill with light. I was surprised, and figured it must have been a force of good. Perhaps Gandalf was causing this._

_ I looked at the wizard, and was shocked to see a look of horror cover his wrinkled features. No, this was not his doing. Not even close._

_ Fearfully, I watched as the light went from pale and welcoming to fiery and dark, a sign of evil. Huge footsteps echoed in my ears, and I felt terror enclose my heart, making it beat fast and erratically. I knew this evil…and I knew we were all going to die._

I inhaled shakily, trying to get rid of all the effects of the dream-no, prophecy. If this was what Elrond went through every time he looked around, I had no idea how he could survive. Neither could I understand how Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien, could stand to look in the mirror again and again, even after thousands of years of friendship. After Galadriel had become my best friend, we had shared abilities with each other. I taught her how to speak in the minds of others, and she would send me images of the future while I slept. Though I was overjoyed with the gift at first, now I wish I could just turn it off.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice the footsteps coming from behind me until the owner was standing next to me. Quickly, I glanced up, meeting the eyes of the Maia who had been in my dream. Gandalf peered down at me, and when I broke my gaze, I could almost feel his concern. He sat down heavily next to me, and placed a creased hand on my shoulder.

"What troubles you, Adonneniel?"

I hung my head.

"I see death, Gandalf. In the future, there is death."

I choked back a sob, making the old wizard's eyes soften even more. He pulled me close, and I let the tears flow, shaking softly against his chest.

"There is always death in the future. You do not have to fear it."

I took a deep breath, and released myself from his embrace, wiping away my tears.

"You're right, as usual."

He smiled, making my heart feel a bit lighter before I remembered exactly what happened in my nightmare. My gaze darkened.

"But, Gandalf, something is going to happen on this quest. I saw it with my own eyes-fire and darkness, mixed together in the most evil of magic. I remember it from my time with…them. You know what this is, do you not?"

He stiffened, and I knew he had understood my meaning.

"There are demons in dark places that we must take the most care to avoid."

I nodded, before sighing and staring at the moon. There was one other thing I needed to discuss with him, but I really didn't want to say it.

"It's nearly gone, Gandalf."

He raised an eyebrow at me, but I wouldn't meet his eyes. Above everything else, I hated most to admit weakness.

"My magic," I continued, hesitating a bit.

His gaze turned soft once again, and we both knew we were travelling on thin ice.

"If it has begun to pain you to use it, you must no longer do so."

I shook my head defiantly.

"I have to use it, old friend. It's necessary."

"Then you will use it as little as possible. No exceptions."

I smiled at him.

"After all these years, you've finally acquired my stubbornness."

He chuckled, and it seemed as if a load had finally been taken off my shoulders. Never would I say it aloud, but telling him my troubles seemed to make them lessen. We talked about lighter things for a while, and then he insisted that I go to bed. I reluctantly agreed, knowing that he was probably right.


	7. Chapter 6

Well, here's the other chapter I promised! I'm running low again...back to writing!

**Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings I do not own.**

Elvish= _italics_

Mind-Speaking= **bold**

Adonneniel POV

The next day, I was well rested and ready to go, surprisingly. I had packed my bags quickly, taking only what I needed. For clothing, I wore (as usual) men's attire. A light grey tunic, brown leggings, and my favorite knee-high boots. Over that, I had my trademark dark grey cloak, and then, of course, my many weapons. With my quiver on my back, full of my white-feathered arrows and wooden bow, my curved swords in a single scabbard on my side, and my carved staff (in its bracelet form) on my wrist, I felt _pretty good_.

Legolas, Gandalf, and Elrond were already up, as was expected. I waited for the rest of the Fellowship outside of the gates, munching on a piece of lembas. I love elvish bread, mostly because I could live on it for a long time, being the wanderer I am. Legolas, being an elf, eyed me enviously, and I sighed, handing him a piece. He instantly cheered up, and chatted amiably with me as Aragorn and Boromir arrived. I ignored the Gondorian, but waved to my friend, and Legolas made up for my clear rudeness by welcoming them both. I, in turn, talked to Gimli when the elf refused to acknowledge him. And so, the two pairs of enemies blatantly avoided each other, milling about until the hobbits finally appeared.

Frodo looked relatively happy to be on the quest, and I immediately gravitated towards him. The little guy had stolen a piece of my heart the moment I had seen him-he was so young, so small, and yet so brave. Sam, Merry, and Pippin waved at me, and I returned the gesture, but kept close to Frodo.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom," said Elrond quietly, though with great power in his voice.

I shivered. I had forgotten how powerful he truly was.

"-and you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will."

I stiffened, knowing that there really was an oath holding me to this quest, though it was not really what brought me along. No, I thought, gazing down at the hobbit next to me, what made me come was my promise to no one else. That I would forever leave the darkness that I had fallen into, and that I would finally be the Vala reborn. I would regain my identity, and finally become the true Adonneniel.

"So, Gandalf?" Frodo questioned, knocking me out of my thoughts.

"Hmmm?" the wizard replied, looking down at him.

"Which way to Mordor, right or left?"

I snorted, making Aragorn peer at me curiously. Thankfully, neither Gandalf nor Frodo had heard me.

"Left."

I shook my head, but tapped my wrist, using my staff as a walking stick. Of course it was left. If it was right, then Mordor would be considered correct, and therefore good. Only evil rests in the heart of the East.

Merry and Pippin started a conversation with Boromir, and I rested on my staff, gazing at our path. Legolas and Gimli had already begun to argue, and Aragorn and Gandalf were leading the way, Sam right behind them with the pony, Bill, and the cooking materials. I, as always, was alone with my thoughts.

Suddenly, I felt a hand tug on my sleeve, and I glanced down to see Frodo smiling up at me. I smiled back, my dark thoughts disappearing instantly. Perhaps I wasn't as alone as I thought.

The two of us walked side-by-side at the back of the group, and soon, Sam had dropped down next to us. I watched silently as the two began to talk. Sam was a great friend to have-protective, caring, and kind. Frodo was going to need him more than any of us, even if he didn't realize it yet.

I left them alone to converse, and instead walked up next to Gandalf and Aragorn. There was still something I needed to talk about, something I didn't want to the hobbits to hear.

_"Which road are we going to take, Gandalf? Each is dangerous in its own way,"_ I whispered in Elvish.

He didn't look at me, but he sighed and I could almost see his eyes clouding over with thought.

_"I have yet to choose among a few, these including the southern pass, the Gap of Rohan, the mountain pass, and…"_

He trailed off, making me purse my lips. Aragorn gave me a 'what-did-you-expect' look.

_"What is the last path, Gandalf?" _the Ranger asked.

The wizard took a deep breath.

_"I will not take this trail unless it is absolutely necessary, but there is the option of going under the mountain."_

I pondered that thought, and suddenly gasped in realization. Dark halls, unlit by fire, huge carvings and columns-my terrible dream! It would happen…if we went to Moria.

_"We cannot go there!" _I hissed loudly, gaining the attention of Legolas, who had extremely good hearing. _"There is evil lying in the depths. The dwarves dug too deep!"_

All three of them looked at me, surprised, until Gandalf got my meaning. He nodded solemnly, and we continued on our journey in silence. We walked for a good score of miles, with the hobbits grumbling and complaining the entire way, until the sun had begun to set, and we made camp.

I sat there, staring at the fire, my thoughts in dark places. Aragorn sat down beside me, smoking his pipe. I ignored him, still thinking of the death to come. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my forearm, and I looked up at him in surprise.

_"Where have you gone, Adonneniel?"_ he softly questioned, reverting to Elvish and placing down the pipe.

I shook my head, trying to flick away all of those evil thoughts.

_"I'm right here."_

_ "I beg to differ, but you're not. You've told Gandalf, why won't you tell me?"_

I met his eyes, which were full of concern and another emotion I couldn't place.

_"I don't want to trouble you, Estel. My thoughts are, simply put, sometimes too much to share."_

_ "Please, my friend."_

I crossed my arms indignantly, and looked anywhere but at him.

_"You are aware that I was given a bit of the gift of prophecy, yes? It was something I learned from the Lady Galadriel."_

He nodded slowly in my peripheral vision.

_"Well, yesterday, I was struck by a vision of the future. I…I see death, Aragorn. There is death waiting for us."_

He frowned, and then did something I didn't expect. He pulled me into a hug, different from the one we had shared the day at the Council. That one was just friends reuniting, this was more sympathetic. Full of emotion.

I stiffened, but sighed and relaxed in his arms. He smiled against my hair, and I rested my head against his shoulder.

"Well, it seems as if our roles have been switched. You're keeping me safe from my emotions, but I'm supposed to be protecting you. Damn it."

He pulled away, his eyes wide in surprise, before he burst out laughing. I half-smiled, not really annoyed, but too stubborn to be completely happy. I felt eyes resting on us, and turned to see Gandalf, smoking, as expected. He was also raising a grey eyebrow at me, and mischief raced through his blue eyes. I followed his gaze to see it shifting between the two of us, and I immediately jumped up, my face tinged red with embarrassment.

**No…you…bloody…ARGH! **I screamed in his mind, and stomped away to my sleeping mat.

As I pretended to fall asleep, I listened to the conversation continue.

"Gandalf, what was that about?" I heard Aragorn ask, completely clueless.

And then I really did lose myself to unconsciousness as the old wizard laughed heartily.


	8. Chapter 7

I need to write! AH!

Anyway, this chapter goes out to all of my amazing reviewers, followers, favoriters, and everyone of you readers. 3

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT: go check out my budday **superkiran**! She's recently put up a LotR story that I recommend for all of you werewolf fans out there.

Now, on with the show!

**Disclaimer: You know the deal. I really don't own Lord of the Rings, despite how much I want to.**

Adonneniel POV

_ "What are you doing, Echo, my pet?"_

_ The voice echoed through the dark-sinister, dark, foreboding. It made skin quiver off of bones, and spines tingle with fear. It made the hairs on the back of necks stick up, and eyes search for whatever evil creature had created the noise._

_ "Just examining the battle arrangements from the First Battle of Beleriand."_

_ This voice, slightly more feminine, was just as horrible, if not worse. Instead of immediately repulsing the senses, it lured a mind in with the hints of childish laughter, and then twisted it, turning it into a high-pitched, but seductive, tone. It contained a hint of insanity, of terror, and of almost everything else disturbing._

_ "East or West?" asked the first voice again._

_ "East. Though I would enjoy it more to hear the screams of dying elves, it is more useful to the Master to see what went wrong with our scum."_

_ If it hadn't been enough with the creepiness of the voices, now it was downright terrifying._

_ Suddenly, one of the owners of the voices became visible. The feminine one was indeed a girl, with mangled, dirty dark brown hair. Her face was all angles, her skin pale and covered in ash and dirt. Her nose was flared, and a sneer lay on her lips. She would have been considered pretty, even with the lack of hygiene, if it wasn't for her eyes._

_ They were black as night, not a single distinction between the pupil and the iris. The whites stuck out like a bruise, and both of the eyes glittered with…pure and utter evil._

I woke up with a jerk, panting, my face covered in sweat. I was sitting straight up on my sleeping mat, everyone asleep around me, save for Legolas, who was on watch. He looked at me curiously, but I waved his attention away. He didn't need to know my old memories.

I took a deep, calming breath, thinking to myself that one of these nights I should really get a good rest. It took a while for my body to relax, but it took even longer for my mind to calm down and assure myself that it had just been a memory, and not real life.

Somehow, I managed to force myself into unconsciousness. Now, that's a skill I can actually value.

_"Arwen!" a man's voice called._

_ The scene was entirely different, this time a place I could recognize. It was in the heart of Lothlórien, and covered in elanor. This must be Cerin Amroth, where Amroth's house was before he was lost. I followed my ears to where the voice had come from._

_ "Aragorn, I cannot," replied a beautiful, crystalline voice._

_ I lifted an eyebrow to myself, wondering why I was listening to Aragorn and Arwen, of all people. _

_ Suddenly, I saw them, facing each other on the mound. She was perfect, as usual, wearing her typical long-sleeved gown, her long black hair trailing down her back. He, on the other hand, looked older than when I had met him, but younger than now. His grey eyes shone with emotion, crinkling at the edges in a mixture of love and sadness. He was on the ground, on one knee._

_ "Why not, my love?"_

_ Instantly, I felt as if this was a private memory, one I should not be intruding on. Yet, I couldn't make myself move my feet to get away._

_ "I cannot marry you, for you are mortal and I am not. I cannot accept the Gift of Men without harming everyone I know and love."_

_ I watched in horror as he crumpled before my very eyes, and I understood what she had really meant. She didn't consider him among those she loved._

_ I felt the rush of blood in my ears, and emotions riling around my stomach. One, very plainly known, was anger. He was my friend, and she couldn't do this to him. The other, which was even more prominent, was something I had felt many times, but never in a circumstance like this. It was…jealousy?_

_ Why was I jealous of Arwen Evenstar?_

_ The scene then changed, and I exhaled, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. I looked around, and saw I was in the middle of another elf-ruled forest. Not Lórien, but Imladris. Elrond's territory._

_ A young man was standing in front of me, barely managing to hold up a sword. I smiled. I knew exactly what was happening._

_ The boy, who couldn't be older than 17, was trying to kill an invisible enemy. The sword was of elven make, clean-cut and polished. It was also too heavy for such a slight teenager. _

_ He tried nonetheless, sweeping and stabbing in awkward motions. Obviously, he had no idea what to do with it. _

_ A low chuckle filled the air, and the boy froze, looking around wildly._

_ "Who's there?" he called, his voice cracking embarrassingly. _

_ "One who wants to help," a female voice answered, and a grey-cloaked figure stepped into view._

_ He tried to wield his sword defensively, but the figure easily disarmed him, two silver swords glinting in the sunlight. He backed up, and tried to trip her, but the stranger laughed again, and caught him by the throat. He frantically waved his arms, trying to get away, and surprisingly, she let him go, his back hitting the grass._

_ "I am no threat, Estel."_

_ "H-how do you know my name?"_

_ She sheathed her weapons and pulled down her hood. The boy cocked his head curiously at her long brown locks and feminine face, and she smiled at him._

_ "I'm a friend of Elrond."_

_ "You know my father?"_

_ For a second, she hesitated, but the untrained boy didn't see it. I looked on knowingly, seeing that it was because of the boy's strange title for the Lord._

_ "Yes. My name is Adonneniel, but you can call me Nen."_

_ The boy sputtered for a second, before remembering his manners and bowing before her. She laughed one more time, and stooped down to his level._

_ "You never need to bow down to me, Estel. However, you will treat me with respect, as you would treat a teacher or a friend."  
He straightened, and confusion crossed his face._

_ "Oh, right, sorry. I forgot to tell you-I'm to be your teacher! You finally have someone to teach you how to hold that sword correctly."_

_ He brightened up immediately, and began to ask rapid-fire questions before she interrupted him._

_ "Here's what you need to know. We're starting with basic survival skills, from tracking to plant and animal identification. Next, we'll get started on basic weapon wielding, then archery, and finally swords."_

_ He looked downcast for a minute, and my younger self put her hand on his shoulder._

_ "I think we're going to be great friends, Estel."_

When I woke up, it was morning, and the current Ranger was already up, clearing away our evidence of a campsite. Legolas was sitting on a rock, the same position as he had been last night. I yawned, gaining a look from both of them.

"Good morning, Nen," said the elf happily.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" I sleepily asked, cracking the bones in my neck.

Aragorn rolled his eyes at me for doing such a manly gesture, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"The sun, of course! She has come to grace us all with her presence, and we shall bask in her golden glow."

I stared at Legolas, open-mouthed. It was the morning. Nobody was allowed to be this cheerful this early. Aragorn caught my expression and laughed, waking up Gandalf, who had only been half-asleep anyway. The wizard grumbled for a bit, but quickly had gotten up and was quite content to give himself the task of waking the rest.

I lazily closed my eyes again, trying to catch another minute of rest, one not-so-plagued with dreams.

"I can see you over there, Adonneniel," called Gandalf. "Come along, get up, we haven't got the entire day."

I groaned, but obediently shook myself awake and packed up my things. I didn't need some dream-memories to remember what Gandalf did to those who didn't follow his directions instantly.

It's better to just (shudder) wake up early than to spend the day with your toes on fire, thank you very much.


	9. Chapter 8

Oh. My. Eru. Over 1,200 views and 13 reviews! Can I pass out now, please?

Nen: That probably wouldn't be good.

Me: Oh, be quiet. You sound like Gandalf.

Gandalf: Please, I sound much more intelligent than that.

Nen: HEY!

Aragorn: *snort*

Me: *le sigh* Ah, love...

Aragorn and Nen: WHAT!?

Me: Ummm...nothing...I...uh...who wants to do the disclaimer?

Nen: I'll do it! **Hi, I'm Archer, Nen is the best person on Middle Earth. She's amazing and hilarious and stupendous** **and-**

Me: Aren't you forgetting something?!

Nen: **Oh yeah, sorry! Archer only owns me, everything else, not so much.**

Me: On with the show!

Aragorn POV

The first week or so of our journey passed uneventfully, praise the Valar. That, of course, made Boromir restless, which resulted in the aggravation of Nen. She had managed to put up with it surprisingly well, but once he tried to put her in the middle of the group for her own protection, she snapped.

_From my spot at the head of the party, I checked on everyone. The hobbits were fine, stuck in the middle of the group between Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir. The elf and the dwarf had at least been attempting to get along, but sadly, the same could not be said for the Son of Gondor and the once-Vala. He was attempting to persuade her to go with the hobbits in the middle of the group, and had been on this thought since the day previous. I wanted to intervene on the behalf of my female friend, but I knew she could handle herself._

_ "THAT'S IT! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY LONGER!" _

_ Speak of the demon._

_ Nen furiously spun on Boromir, placing a threatening finger on his chest. I saw his eyes narrow, and I knew this was not going to be good._

_ "I thought we had cleared this up earlier, but obviously you are not capable of understanding anything unfamiliar! Have you been blind to my show of strength? I'm perfectly capable of protecting a few hobbits!"_

_ I pinched the bridge of my nose, and quietly strode up behind them. I asked Boromir to stop using my eyes, and the anger in them flared, but he hesitantly backed away. Sighing, I made my way back to where Gandalf was waiting, knowing that the constant bitterness between them had only been hidden just below the surface._

"Will you please stop _pacing?!_"

The yell rang in my ears, distracting me from my thoughts. I furrowed my brow, looking back to where the two were bickering. Nen was lounging on a log, her green eyes narrowed at the Gondorian, who was predictably walking back and forth across her vision.

"Something's bound to happen, woman. Stop acting like nothing's wrong."  
I groaned as Nen furiously jumped up, her hand twitching to her swords. I quickly stepped between the two of them, keeping them apart from each other.

"Both of you, be quiet at once!" reprimanded Gandalf from his spot against a boulder.

Nen bit her lip hard, keeping herself from spitting out a retort. Boromir gritted his teeth, before storming to the other side of the camp, where Merry and Pippin were waiting. I debated whether to follow him or not, finally deciding that he could handle it.

I heard a loud grunt, and the sound of a rock being kicked into a metal pot.

"HEY! I'm cooking over here, you know!" called Sam angrily.

I sighed, before turning to Nen and placing my hand on her shoulder. I felt her tremble, barely containing her anger, and then a soft exhale followed. Her back was to me, so I spun her around, making her green orbs meet my eyes.

"You don't normally pick a fight with Boromir unless you have a reason."

Her eyes turned a bit darker, and I searched them, looking for any emotion. She hardened her gaze, and I remembered who had taught me how to hide your feelings. Nen remained silent, and I cursed inside my head as she strode off away from me. What was troubling her so much, and why wouldn't she let me help her? I cared about her too much to go quietly while she suffered.

Wait, what?

I assured myself that it was just a friendly care, one between old friends, and busied myself with watching Boromir train with Merry and Pippin.

"Move your feet!" he shouted, still miffed from his bout with Nen.

I observed, amused, as he proceeded to unintentionally harm one of the Halflings, before they both tackled him to the ground. Turning my attention to my side, I saw Gandalf and Gimli talking, Nen sharpening her swords by them.

"Gandalf, we can always pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome!" Gimli said with a smile.

I heard Nen hiss violently, and Gandalf immediately shook his head.

"No, Gimli, we will not go on the road to Moria unless we have no other choice."

I raised an eyebrow, recalling the conversation Nen had had with us before. _The dwarves dug too deep._

Suddenly, Legolas stands up next to me. Narrowing his keen eyes, he stared at something off in the distance, and I quickly stood up next to him. A dark cloud was moving in the distance, coming closer to us rapidly.

"What's that?" I barely heard Sam ask.

"Nothing, just a wisp of cloud," replied Gimli gruffly.

Boromir stopped his fight with the hobbits, and followed our gazes.

"It's moving fast…against the wind."

Legolas' eyes finally managed to penetrate the cloud, and he gasped.

"Crebain from Dunland!" he shouts, and frantically rushes to clear away our camp.

I rush forward too, pushing the hobbits down under the rocks before following them myself.

"Hide!" I hissed.

Nen freezed, however, and I stared at her, horrified.

"This isn't going to be enough," she murmured.

"NEN!" I quietly cried, trying to get her attention.

She ignored me, and tapped her bracelet, transforming it into her staff. She whispered words I couldn't understand, and twirled the staff in a circular motion, closing her eyes. Suddenly, a thick fog flowed quickly in from behind her. She continued whispering, the fog rising along her form as it began to cover the entire clearing. Her hair whipped around her, and I became awe-struck as I realized how powerful…and beautiful…she looked.

The cawing of the Crebain began to fill our ears, and she grimanced in pain, before quietly ducking down underneath the mist. I wanted to reach out to her, figure out what was hurting her, but I couldn't leave the hobbits. Frustrated, I clenched my fist, my fingers digging into my palm.

After I could no longer hear the rustle of wings, I motioned to the hobbits that it was alright to come out, and quickly ran to Nen's side as the fog dispersed. Her eyes were still closed, and she was clutching her side. I shook her shoulders.

"Nen!" I called worriedly.

Her lids fluttered open, and I sighed in relief as her emerald green eyes found mine. She weakly half-smiled, and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, embracing her. We stayed that way for a moment, and then I pulled back, concerned.

"Nen, why were you hurt? What are you keeping to yourself?"

She took a deep breath, and then sat up, wincing a bit. She looked at the ground, not meeting my eyes. The rest of the Fellowship crowded around us, but I barely noticed them, focused on my friend.

"Do you recall how I told you I stored up my magic after I lost my connection to Eru Ilúvatar?" she asked, quietly.

I nodded slowly, not seeing where she was going.

"It's nearly gone…" she muttered, managing to stand up shakily as she transformed the staff back into a bracelet.

"B-but why would that harm you?" questioned a soft voice from behind me.

Nen and I both looked to see the hobbits standing there, Frodo being the one who asked the question. She exhaled, and stooped to his height, placing gentle hands on his arms.

"I'm 17,000 years old, Frodo. Without my magic, I would die."

I nearly gasped, but managed to hold my tongue in time. Boromir, however, could not control his pity, and everyone heard him sharply inhale. Legolas and Gimli had sadness etched across their faces, and the hobbits looked like they were about to cry. Nen dipped her head, hating the sympathy, and scurried away to where Gandalf was standing. The wizard hid his eyes beneath his hat, but I could almost feel the waves of concern coming off of him. The two exchanged glances and I got to my feet.

"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf said, leaning on his staff. "The passage south is being watched. We now make for the Pass of Caradhras."

Nen pulled her hood over her face, leading the way next to the wizard. I stayed in the rear, gazing at her form as she avoided all of us. Sighing, I picked up the pace, and thought back to my reaction. The concern I had felt was deep, deeper than I thought it had been. If she hadn't woken up, I would've had no idea what to do.

I realized, then and there, that perhaps my heart had seen something my brain hadn't. Back when I had said to myself I cared about her, it wasn't truly exactly like I cared about a friend. Actually, it wasn't like a friend at all…

I trailed off in my mind, shaking my head to clear it. There was no time for those confusing thoughts where we were going.

A/N: Sorry for changing the story...but I had to make sure everyone knew of Nen's weakness.


	10. Chapter 9

I know, I know, I'm supposed to be writing longer chapters. Well, that sucks, but I'm also low on time and extremely determined to get a chapter out to you guys today.

Anyway, hear comes Caradhras...

**Disclaimer: Nen is the only thing I own, basically. And while she's awesome and I love her, I would quite enjoy owning the Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately, I do not. Darn.**

Adonneniel POV

I _hated_ feeling weak. No, not just hate, I absolutely despised it. And I couldn't feel much weaker than I did battling the snowy drifts on that hateful mountain.

After collapsing when creating that simple fog, I was now completely forbidden from using my magic. If Gandalf caught me, I would get a lot worse than just my feet set aflame. So, that's why I felt completely powerless while the heavy snow barricaded our bodies, something I could've easily prevented if we had taken this journey maybe a couple of years before.

I glowered at Legolas, who was calmly dancing on top of the snow as if he weighed nothing at all. He caught my glare and smiled, making me playfully raise a fist at him. We had gotten close over our journey, and I could see why Aragorn and he were such good friends.

Aragorn…

I shifted my gaze, looking to where the Ranger and Frodo were trudging along, directly in front of me. Something had happened that day with the Crebain between us, and it was bothering me immensely. I had woken up after my spell to see his face above me, and for some reason I had felt a huge rush of joy at seeing his face. Not because of my own returned health, but because he wasn't harmed in the time I was out.

I shook my head at myself, wondering why in the world I would ever worry about that. Aragorn could take care of himself, and he'd done that for a long time before I returned. Yet, I still couldn't shake the feeling off that I wanted to protect him, _had_ to protect him.

It was probably because of my promise to Isildur, I thought in my head, dismissing any other ideas.

I smiled as Aragorn helped the hobbit up the steep incline. I wasn't the only one with overprotective tendencies. Suddenly, Frodo slipped, beginning to tumble down the snow-covered mountain. I cried out, moving to grab him.

I managed to snag a hand around his ankle, but not too soon after, Aragorn grasped both of his legs, covering my hand with his larger one. We looked at each other, surprised by the contact, but then swiftly moved as one to aid Frodo.

"It's alright, I'm okay," the Halfling said, brushing snow off of his clothes.

Frodo moved some snow off of his chest, and all of a sudden, his eyes widened in fear. He continued to move his hands quickly around his neck, and I realized what was bothering him. The Ring!

I frantically looked around, taken by a sudden urge to find the golden band. I froze, taken aback by my own thoughts, but the sudden rush of fear quickly turned to anger as I heard someone else's voice.

"Boromir!" Aragorn called, looking down at the man.

I turned to gaze at the Gondorian, and saw that he was holding the Ring up by the chain. I narrowed my eyes, finally feeling a connection to Boromir. I had once, a long time ago, been seduced by power. Now, he was feeling the effects of the same creature.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer such fear and doubt over so small a thing," he murmured, tracing the outline of the dark object with his grey eyes.

I found my own eyes being drawn to the Ring.

** Echo…**

"BOROMIR!" I heard Aragorn shout in a much more authoritative voice, knocking me out of my stupor with a jolt.

Thank Eru for that man. Boromir had also heard his stern tone, and glanced away from the Ring, as did I.

"Give the Ring back to Frodo."

I knew Boromir was handing the chain to the hobbit, but I have a tendency not to pay attention to the things that others would consider important. Instead, I was pondering over my friend. He didn't want to accept his destiny, to become a King, and yet, he sounded more and more like one every day. A humble, just ruler is one all can bow down to, I thought with a rare sense of wisdom.

"As you wish. I care not," said Boromir with a huff, and I immediately started mentally calling him all sorts of immature things, the insight quickly gone.

From then on, I gained a sort of understanding with my nemesis. He wasn't really an enemy, just a sort of stubborn, pompous fool. The Gondorian was a bit like me, in that way. On a darker note, we both held a strange connection to the Ring, mine being much more severe, but hidden carefully under my skin.

I blinked, and realized that I was being left behind. Quickly, I pushed my way through the snow.

A few hours later, I felt even more useless. We were being battered by the raging wind and snow, and I couldn't do a single damn thing about it. At the beginning, I had become short-tempered, angry at myself, but freezing blizzards do marvelous things to a flame of fury.

I staggered against the wind, trying my best not to fall off of the mountain. The hobbits had long ago found somewhat of a refuge against the violent storm in the cloaks of Boromir and Aragorn, and I huddled in my own cloak, grateful for the warmth it could give. Gimli, being a dwarf, did his best to hide his discomfort, but I could hear him cursing and muttering under his breath every once in a while. Legolas, of course, wasn't feeling any affects of the storm, and was basically floating over the snow. I loved the elves, but sometimes…. Anyway, Gandalf seemed unperturbed by the foul weather, determined to pass this way. I knew this was better than going under the mountain, but to be honest, I was desperate for any warmth.

I saw Aragorn falter as well and quickly reached for his arm, dragging him, Frodo, and Sam closer to the stone on one side of us. He looked at me under his hood gratefully, and I nodded, gritting my teeth to keep them from chattering. Frodo poked his head out and smiled weakly at me, and my heart melted a little. I ruffled his hair, before pushing him back where he could be warmer.

Suddenly, I felt the whispers of magic in the air. Straining my ears, but hearing nothing, I turned to Legolas, who could obvious hear something. His sea-blue eyes were glazed over, and he stared off into the distance before shouting back to the rest of us.

"There is a fell voice in the air!" he cried over the noise of the wind.

"Cuiva nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar!" I heard the words over the storm, and inside my head, the meaning.

**Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your blood-stained horn fall upon the enemy-heads!**

I gasped, recognizing the voice. Gandalf looked strained as well, for we both knew that the White Wizard had gone too far into the darkness.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled to the rest, who had felt the dark force but did not understand it.

All of a sudden, rocks and snow started to fall from the mountain, threatening to hit our group. The men curled around the hobbits protectively, and I snarled, my anger returning for another Maia who had fallen to evil.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain, Gandalf! _We must turn back!_" Aragorn called, struggling against the cruel weather.

I knew Gandalf would not answer him, but I could.

"We cannot go back! Not now, not ever!" I growled, not caring if he could hear me over the wind.

Gandalf raised his staff, shouting against the howling storm.

"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!"

**Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!**

I wanted to join him, but I held my tongue as the storm lashed out again, hitting the top of the mountain with lightning. I cried out as the snow came toppling down onto us, and then could only feel a piercing coldness.

A/N- MUAHAHAHAHA CLIFF HANGER! I'm evil, and I'll only become more and more evil in the upcoming chapters. You've been warned! :D


	11. Chapter 10

Hey guys! I'm so sorry I'm posting this so late, but I was distracted most of the day. In reward, you guys get some Aragorn/Nen action! WOOHOO!

**Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, I mention I don't own LotR, same as usual.**

Aragorn POV

I finally pushed my way to the surface of the snow, gasping and sputtering for breath. I reached down, pulling up Frodo and Sam with me, and once I knew they were not harmed, I anxiously searched for the others. Legolas was already on top of the snow, pulling out Gandalf quickly and Gimli soon after with a smirk. Boromir burst to the surface as well, Pippin and Merry safe with him. That left only one.

"Nen!" I cried, digging furiously through the snow.

I searched frantically, nothing going through my mind except the need to find her. Finally, I heard a low moan to my right, and a single hand pushed its way to the surface. Quickly, I grabbed it, pulling her out of the snow with everything I had.

Nen's face, covered in snowflakes, appeared, her green eyes weary with fatigue, but otherwise she was unhurt. I sighed in relief and clutched her to my body, trying to warm her.

"Aragorn," she said, her voice muffled as she spoke against my chest, "It's alright. I'm fine. You can let go now."

I pulled away, a bit embarrassed, but warmed all the way to my core. She smiled at me, and my heart thudded in my chest. I had no idea why, but I suspected it had something to do with the warm feeling rising through my entire body.

"This will be the death of hobbits!" I heard Boromir cry, and I guiltily wrapped my cloak around Frodo and Sam, feeling terrible for forgetting them in my haste. "We cannot stay much longer!"

They both looked up, and Frodo mouthed that it was okay. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward, but it turned to a scowl of worry as the man shouted again.

"Make for the Gap of Rohan. We can take the road west to my city!"

"No," I yelled back, "The Gap takes us too close to Isengard!"

Boromir's eyes glinted reproachfully, but before anything could happen, Gimli spoke up.

"If we cannot go over the mountain, why not go under?"

I saw Gandalf stiffen, and the air around Nen dropped another ten degrees, if that was possible. Her green eyes were wide, an emotion she barely ever expressed capturing her face. Fear.

She must have felt my gaze, because she quickly hid her feelings, but that didn't stop me from wondering.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf said in a low voice.

I looked down to Frodo, who gulped, looking between his fellow hobbits, Gimli, Gandalf, and Nen. She was looking at him anxiously, and I knew she was praying to Eru that he wouldn't choose Gimli's suggestion.

"We will take the Ring to Moria," he said quietly, and I glanced at Nen, who was frozen stiff.

She let the fear show once again, and I knew then what was troubling her. Death and darkness-she feared for our lives in the land of the dwarves.

"So be it," replied Gandalf, whose eyes were empty of their usual sparkle.

We began to trudge back down the mountain, the wind blowing hard against our backs. Nen hesitated, and I stopped, waiting for her.

"No," whispered Nen, so low that no one could hear it save Legolas and I.

After a long trek, we made it halfway down the mountain before the sun had begun to set. The wind was no longer bitter, and though the temperature was cold, there was no longer snow covering the hill. The others busied themselves with setting up camp, Nen burying her feelings in the work. I furrowed my brow, concerned, but put those thoughts aside as I started a fire.

Once night had fallen, the hobbits slept close to the fire, delighting in its warmth. Boromir and Gimli quickly retired as well, worn out from our battle with the mountain. Gandalf and Legolas stayed awake, talking quietly by the fire of times gone by. I was content to sit and smoke, pondering about everything that had happened, especially Nen.

She could drive me insane, make me feel stupid, or send me the most conflicting messages, but at the same time managed to make me laugh and feel happy. I knew I felt something for her, that was certain, but I couldn't tell what it was. It felt like what I had felt (and perhaps still continued to feel) for Arwen, but at the same time so different.

They were so unlike each other. Arwen was devastatingly beautiful, soft, and gentle. Nen was tough, somewhat unpredictable, and strong. Yet in her own way, she was just as beautiful. That day on the hill, with her magic around her, she looked as gorgeous and untamable as a storm, her brown hair floating in the wind, her skin illuminated by the magic, and her emerald eyes alight in a way that I hardly saw anymore.

I glanced over at the woman in question, who was lost in thought as well. She was unconsciously twisting the bracelet on her wrist, a habit she had acquired on the descent from the snow-covered mountain top.

Placing my pipe down, I moved over to where she was sitting, making her look up at me, her green orbs meeting my grey.

"Hello," she murmured, making my lips twitch up into a half-smile.

"Hello," I repeated, plopping down next to her.

We fell into silence after that, which made me a bit uncomfortable. I opened my mouth to make some awkward comment or another, when Nen interrupted me.

"Aragorn."

I felt my heartbeat quicken as she said my name, and I mentally scolded myself.

"Yes?"

"The past few days…uh, I mean, I've wanted to say….ugh."

I restrained the urge to chuckle at her, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead moved closer until our sides were nearly touching. Surprising me, Nen groaned and placed her head on my shoulder. My stomach became filled with giant flying bats, and I inhaled slowly before turning my head to look at her, my gaze immediately flitting to her lips. I blinked, slapping myself inside my head.

"I'll just say it outright, I guess. Well, for the past few days, I've felt pretty much useless. I can't defend anyone I care about without someone snapping at me or my own head instantly punishing me with a pounding migraine."

My heart thudded loudly in my chest at _anyone I cared about_.

"You're not useless, Nen."

She lifted her head to look at me, her eyes wide. She started to speak, but I pressed a finger against her lips.

"Listen to my words for once, please. You're not worthless, not a single bit. In case you haven't noticed, we all care about you, even Boromir."

Her gaze narrowed at the sound of his name, and I smiled.

"Legolas cares about you. Gimli cares about you. The hobbits practically adore you, and I know you are almost a daughter to Gandalf. As for me…"  
I trailed off for a second, thinking about my previous self-conversations.

"As for me, I wouldn't know what to do without you. You're my teacher, my advisor, and my best friend. Before, in the snow, I didn't feel anything but an overwhelming need to find you."

I glanced back to her, wondering what her reaction would be. To my astonishment, she embraced me, her head resting against my chest, her arms placing themselves around my torso. I grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist.

We stayed that way for a while, and I realized after a minute that with her in my arms, I didn't care that we could die at any minute on this quest, that I wasn't thinking at all about my future. For that moment, my world revolved around the figure against my chest.

"You always know what to say," she muttered, and I chuckled.

"Not always."  
She smiled, and I felt a rush of pride for myself.

"Hey, I can do something!"

Nen pulled away, and I pouted. Soon, however, I was curious to see what she meant. Craning my neck to see over her head, I saw that she was once again twisting on her bracelet, this time attacking one of the green stones there. After a few seconds of struggle, she tore it out of the wood and held it up victoriously.

"There we go!"

She motioned for me to hold out my hand, and I gave it to her, raising an eyebrow.

"This is one of the shards from my last relic of my home, Belthil. It also happens to be the stone sitting on top of my staff."

I raised the stone close to my eye and saw that it indeed matched the shade and texture identically. Nen's eyes flickered with amusement at my inspection.

"It has special protective powers, so now I won't feel totally miserable not being able to protect you physically."

My grip tightened on the stone, and I wanted to hand it back to her. She seemed to guess what I was thinking, and her eyes turned a shade darker threateningly. I didn't want to face her rage, so I carefully placed it in my inner pocket, the one right above my heart. She looked immensely satisfied, making me smile. I stood up, holding my hand out. She looked confused, but quickly placed her palm into mine.

"I'm humbled by your gift, my lady," I said mockingly, placing my lips on the back of her hand.

She glared at me teasingly, removing her hand to push herself up. Once she was standing as well, she raised a finger, wagging it at me.

"Who are you calling a lady, milord?"

I snorted loudly, and soon, the both of us were laughing uncontrollably, feeling happy for once.

Tis a pity the happiness would not last long.

A/N: I seriously think the Ring is influencing me into writing suspense at the end of these chapters... Anyway, this is going to be happening a lot. I am purposely making the journey of the Fellowship seem longer than as depicted in the movies (or in most fanfictions) but that is for a reason I'll be keeping to myself for now. Said reason is for me to know and for you all to eventually find out.

...

Have I mentioned how much I'm enjoying being evil?MUAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA HAHAHHAAHHAA see you guys soon!


	12. Chapter 11

Now, don't be mean. I know this is late, I know, but I'm not perfect, am I?

PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! *hides in corner* I wrote a long chapter to make up for it!

**Disclaimer by Nen (cause Archer's hiding, so she can't do it): Archer does not own Lord of the Rings or anything affiliated with it. She does own me, and that makes up for it! **

Me: NEN, STOP LYING! YOU KNOW IT DOESN'T! *cries quietly*  
Nen: Oh, stop crying, you big baby! I'm facing much worse than you are!

Me: *quietly* and you'll face even worse later...

Nen: What was that?

Me: ermmmmmmmm...Hey, is that Aragorn?

Nen: ... I'm not falling for that.

Me: Darn. Ummmm...on with the show!

Adonneniel POV

Once we arrived at the foot of the mountain, I felt dread seep back into my bones. I'd much rather be frozen solid in the snow than warm but about to enter the place I feared more than anything.

Moria.

Of course, I hated Mordor, but it didn't scare me. I at least could feel hatred there, an emotion I knew how to deal with. But in the land of the dwarves, I felt terror, and that was something I was not used to at all. I am many things, but I am almost never afraid.

Despite my many protests, I had found myself standing next to an inky lake, searching for a door I never wanted to find.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli said to the hobbits, his chest swelling with pride.

I rolled my eyes.

"Indeed, sometimes their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are lost," replied Gandalf, who was examining the stone.

Legolas smirked, and I immediately knew he was up to no good.

"This does not surprise me…"

I snickered, watching as the dwarf and elf glared at each other. Aragorn half-smiled in my peripheral vision.

The search went on for a while, and I realized with a jolt what Gandalf meant about the secrets of Dwarfish doors. I tapped my bracelet, gaining a strange look from my companions, and whispered a small spell before anyone could object.

I was instantly pained with a headache, but rewarded with the clouds uncovering the moon, shining its light down onto the rock. Gandalf looked at me as if scolding a small child, and I fought the urge to hide behind something. His gaze was diverted, however, by white writing appearing on the stone.

"Ithildin," he said to the rest, who didn't understand. "It mirrors solely starlight and moonlight."

We all admired it, and the non-Elvish speakers looked to Gandalf for a translation of the white words above the door. He sighed.

"It reads: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

Merry pursed his lips, looking at the door quizzically.

"And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Gandalf chuckled.

"It's quite simple, Meriadoc. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the door will open."

Thus, the long period of password-trying began. I sighed, metaphorically banged my head against the stone next to me, and began to sharpen my blades. Frodo sat down next to me, and I smiled at the hobbit. He returned the grin, before opening his mouth as if to say something, then closing it. My smile grew, and I chuckled at his indecision

"Frodo, you should know by now that I don't take offense at nosy questions. It's alright, you can ask."

His blue eyes glinted gratefully.

"I was just wondering about magic. Gandalf's seems so different from yours, and Radagast, the wizard Uncle Bilbo told me about, is different from the both of you."

I blinked, a little surprised at his inquisitiveness. Then again, Frodo was the most observant of the Halflings.

"Well, it's been a while since I've talked with the Brown Wizard, but I know some things of his magic. See, there is a difference between the magic of different individuals. Radagast indulged himself in the magic of forests, so that's why he's so affected by anything to do with the woodland realm. It might interest you to know this, but that was the realm of magic I was to go in, as well."

Frodo raised an eyebrow at this, but I continued without pausing.

"My father was the Hunter of the Forest, and my mother could bring plants springing to life with her very touch. They expected me to become just like them. Of course, that wasn't a path I was going to take, not after…"  
I stopped talking, refraining my mind from going to dark places. Frodo began to act concerned after a while, so I shook my head and began to talk once more.

"Anyway, I bet you can guess what my magic is centered on."  
He pondered for a moment, and I could nearly see the gears turning in his head, before he mumbled his thoughts aloud.

"The wind at the Council…the fog on the hill…the clouds…your magic is based on the weather, isn't it?"

I smiled.

"Well done, Frodo."

He proudly raised his chin, and I nearly laughed, biting on my lip. He looked at me, and I knew he was about to fire another question.

"What about Gandalf?"

"Oh, that's easy. Gandalf is a master of fire, as I believe he's demonstrated before."

Sam came waddling up to us, plopping down protectively next to his fellow hobbit. He contributed to the conversation, having heard what I had just said and gotten the gist of what we were talking about.

"So that's how his fireworks are so grand."  
I laughed quietly, before standing and sheathing my swords. Frodo turned to talk to his gardener, and I was left to my own thoughts once more. That wasn't something I necessarily welcomed, but I did really need to think about something.

And that something came in the form of a ruggedly handsome, brave, young man.

I sighed. Aragorn…he was still my closest friend, though I knew that was not the complete truth to our relationship any longer. We were something different, something much more troubling, but also something much stronger. The feelings that he stirred up inside me were dangerous, ones that I wanted to act upon but also didn't at the same time.

I didn't want to put a name to it, but it wasn't something I could avoid any longer. Could I possibly…have feelings for him?

I looked over at Aragorn, and was shocked to see that he had been staring at me as well. I could feel the blood pounding to my cheeks as I looked away, and I hissed at myself inside my head.

**Get a grip, Nen. You're literally thousands of years older than him, and besides, what would a future King of men want to do with a weakling sorceress who can't even do a simple cloud-moving spell without being pained?**

I scowled, knowing that the annoying voice could be right.

"Nen?" Aragorn asked, striding up beside me.

Then again, it could be wrong, I thought hopefully.

"Yes?" I replied, turning to face him

He took a deep breath, and looked like he was about to say something important, when we heard a great splash. I had my bow armed instantly, but it turned out to be only Pippin, who was throwing rocks into the water. I was relieved and lowered my bow, but Aragorn was a little more wary.

"Do not disturb the water," he hissed, taking the stone from Pippin.

I nodded solemnly, eyeing the lake in a different light now. There was indeed something off about it, something that made me want to shoot into the depths, attempt to find out exactly what was down there.

"Oh, it's hopeless," Gandalf groaned, leaning on his staff for support.

Frodo walked over to him, and I watched the exchange, wondering what was going through the hobbit's mind.

"It's a riddle," he murmured, turning to the wizard. "Gandalf, what's Elvish for friend?"  
"Mellon…"  
The earth began to rumble, and amazingly, the door opened wide. I frowned, knowing that I had just gone from blissful boredom to an even worse fate. Cautiously, I began to walk towards the now gaping hole in the stone, keeping my bow in hand.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will experience the hospitality of dwarves!" Gimli bellowed with a smile from ear to ear.

I paused at the doorway, an instinct buried deep into my reflexes stopping me. Something was wrong here.

"Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat right off the bone!"

I took a deep breath, searching for the smell of burning wood. I gagged on the foul air, a scent much different reaching my nose.

"This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin!"

It was a scent I'd encountered before, and once loved, but now hated with my entire being.

"And they call it a mine…"

It was the smell of death.

"A _mine!_"

I cried out for Gandalf to illuminate his staff, and as he did so, we saw the true remnants of Moria. Skeletons lay across the room, and the whole place smelled disgusting, like rotting meat. I coughed; cringing in disgust as Boromir accidentally kicked the helmet of one.

"This is no mine….it is a tomb!" he yelled.

Gimli halted in shock, and then proceeded to collapse onto the floor, sobbing. Legolas crinkled his nose in disgust, plucking an arrow out from one of the bodies.

"Goblins," he muttered, throwing the arrow to the floor.

Suddenly, a cry filled my ears, and I turned in horror as Frodo came speeding by me, a slimy tentacle wrapped around his leg.

"HELP!" he screamed, pulled by the tentacle high above the water.

Furiously, I raised my bow, aiming flawlessly so that the arrow hit the tentacle. It pierced the slick skin, going straight through. The creature responded with a horrifying shriek, and dozens of tentacles shot out of the water, one of them re-grabbing Frodo as he fell.

I pulled out arrow after arrow, shooting each tentacle as they came. Boromir and Aragorn charged into the water, hacking into the slimy limbs. Legolas shot next to me, and we all fell into the dance of warfare, time seeming to slow down.

This had been what drew me into the art in the first place-the lethal dance between two enemies. Bobbing and weaving, spiraling out of reach just to come crashing down. The sharp sweep of a sword coming down, the gentle bend of a bow, the lethal cutting edge of an arrow flying through the air. I was born to dance…and therefore I was made to fight.

I reached for another arrow, feeling the soft white feathers touch my fingertips before quickly being brought to the harsh string. My muscles tensed as I pulled it back, then relaxed as I let go.

Time resumed, and I watched in horror as the mouth of the beast came roaring to the surface, monstrous jaws open wide. Both Legolas and I never faltered, each of us aiming for a respective eye. Mine was knocked off course by a stray tentacle, but Legolas' hit its destination, and almost at the same time, Aragorn chopped off the limb holding Frodo. I sighed in relief as he caught the hobbit, and frantically motioned for them all to get inside.

Legolas and I covered their retreat, distracting the creature by shooting a few more arrows at it. To my terror, the monster began to pull itself out of the lake, following our retreating forms. Legolas grabbed my arm, pulling me as we scurried after the running figures of the Fellowship towards the Doors.

With my legs full of adrenaline, the elf and I quickly rushed into the mine, the Doors slamming behind us. I placed my hands on my knees, panting to try to recover my breath. We were now in pitch black, the darkness I so feared surrounding us on all sides.

I felt my heartbeat fail to slow, even if my panting did, and I knew that it wasn't because of the rush of exercise anymore. No, I was terrified. As a child, I had not been scared of the dark, and as an adult, I feared it almost more than death.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf called, knocking his staff against a stone to light the room.

"We must face the long dark of Moria."


	13. Chapter 12

And thus began the severe tragedy of...writer's block.

Moria is going to be split up into three chapters, kids. This here is Day 1 of Moria, in which Nen deals with her past (a.k.a. fluff and filler). Day 2 will consist of the whole forgetting-of-path business, and Day 3...well, let's just say a LOT of things happen on Day 3.

So, yeah, the climax of my version of book 1 is coming on Tuesday. Be ready. Things happen. *winks evilly*

Back to writer's block. Okay, I need ideas for what's going to happen on Day 2 when Gandalf forgets which way to go. Should...

a) Nen and Aragorn have a romantic moment? (always an option :D)

b) Nen talk about shtuff with Gandalf? (I'll most likely include this anyway.)

c) Nen bond with Boromir? (This is actually what I'm probably going to do, because I'm sick of them being enemies.)

d) other or all of the above?

PM me or answer in a review! See you tomorrow! Now...on with the show!

Adonneniel POV

_ Day 1 of Moria_

"It is a four days' journey," Gandalf announced, taking his spot at the lead of the group.

"That's if we're not being chased," I muttered, gaining the attention of the hobbits, who were close to me, and Legolas, who could hear basically anything.

I shivered, moving off to the back of the group and gripping the handle of one of my swords. The others fell into line ahead of me, and I began to eye the shadows with venom in my eyes. There were _things_ out there, creatures of the dark that I had both met and heard tales of during my time as Echo.

My memories came flooding back to me as I followed the rest of the Fellowship, of times I'd tried to forget but could not. Times of shadow, darkness, deceit, and death. But it all started with innocence, innocence so naïve it disgusted me thousands of years later.

_"What are you doing, Nielíqui?" the comforting sound of a friend's voice asked._

_ I turned around from my books and gasped. There, in front of me, was my family friend, the Maia Olórin. He was leaning on his staff, merriment twinkling in his blue eyes, and his dark beard becoming covered in streaks of grey. He had always been old, and he would always be old._

_ "Olórin!" I shrieked, running into his arms, which were open wide. "I have missed you!."_

_ His laughter rang across the room as he hugged me close. I was considerably shorter than he, and so, I could feel his chest vibrating as he chuckled._

_ "So, I have heard that the Little Dancer is not so little anymore, hmm?" he said, releasing me. "You are to be married to the powerful Maia Mairon, are you not?"_

_ I blushed, biting the bottom of my lip._

_ "Yes."_

_ The old wizard raised an eyebrow._

_ "That's it?"_

_ I puffed out my cheeks, trying to contain my rambles, but couldn't bear keeping my thoughts to myself._

_ "Oh, Olórin! He's so handsome, so charming, so…" I sighed happily, "amazing."_

_ The Maia chuckled again, before his gaze turned a bit darker, something I wasn't used to in my sheltered home._

_ "Nielíqui, you must promise me something."_

_ I felt a bit nervous, wondering what it could possibly be, but nodded._

_ "Anything."  
"In the future, child, I fear something dark and dangerous may happen. If you find yourself drawn into the mix, I must ask you to promise me this. Do not let yourself go, Nielíqui. If you become something that you are not, I fear for your sake that terrible things will occur. Promise me, child, that you will not lose yourself."_

_ I looked at the old Maia like he was crazy, which he probably was, but I knew even then that whatever Olórin did, he did for a reason. _

_ "Alright…"_

_ He beamed, and the memory faded from my mind, to be replaced with one much later in my life._

_ I looked around, and saw that I was in the midst of the remnants of a great battle. The dead covered the ground, littering the earth with dark blood and bones. _

_ I began to walk around, and saw that my own hands were covered in blood, but not the dark black blood of orcs. No, I had spilt the blood of elves on my hands, the beloved elves of the Valar._

_ Suddenly, I felt a great pain erupting in my chest, so quick and unexpected I fell to the ground, convulsing violently among the bodies. The pain was right where my heart was, but it spread throughout my entire body, causing my head to feel as if it was exploding, my limbs to think they were on fire, and my chest to believe a cursed sword was plunging right into my ribcage. I screamed and screamed until my throat ached, but I could do nothing to get rid of a pain I couldn't see._

_ All of a sudden, I could hear a voice in my head over the sound of my shrieks._

_ "This is for your own good."_

_ Though its tone was grave, the voice itself was beautiful. It had every timbre and note in it, a cacophony of sounds, but one that was so gorgeous it brought tears to my eyes (though those might have already been there from the pain). I realized with a shock, if that was possible anymore for my senses, that this was the voice of the one and only Eru Ilúvatar._

_ And then, I felt nothing. No sensation at all came to me, for I was completely and utterly numb. After a while of the dreadful nonexistence of feeling, I began to feel the pulse of magic in my heart, the only thing keeping me alive. _

_ I would realize later on that this had been the moment when I had lost my connection to the great Eru…forever._

_ The scene shifted once again, to a time only a bit later than that._

_ The first thing that came to mind was that I was thirsty, so terribly thirsty I could barely breathe. The second was hunger, a savage hunger in my stomach that ached for sustenance. And then came the heat._

_ The terrible, terrible heat of the burning sun would forever be melded into my brain. In this harsh land I had exiled myself to, I had made sure that there was nothing to take comfort in, not a hint of shade to relax and rest, nor a drop of water or a particle of food. I was punishing myself, for I needed to be punished. _

_ I had killed. I was a murderer, a thief, and a traitor of the worst kind. I deserved much worse than exile, but I could not kill myself any other way. And trust in this-I tried._

_ First, I had tried to plunge my own blade into my heart, but could not force it closer than my shirt no matter how hard I tried. Some prehistoric part of me stayed my hand, told me it was not to be. Then came the attempted drowning. It was quite a simple plan, really, to just tie a few rocks onto my body and jump into a body of water. Yet when I would stand at the bank, waiting to jump in, I would feel pity for the stream, sea, or lake that would have to remember my suicide for eternity. I couldn't disgrace the waters that way, so I tried the next thing that came to mind. Then the next, and so on and so on. Each time, something stood in my way, kept me alive._

_ So, I decided on banishing myself to the harsh lands of the East, where no one would truly go anymore. I had lost track of time in my exile, for I saw no need to keep count of the time I spent wandering, only that it happened was necessary in my mind._

_ After some time, I could go on no longer, and I fell to my feet, ready to succumb to the darkness of death on the desert ground. I did not know how long I lay there, only that the sun would not stop pounding on my face, the rumbling of stomach would not end, and my throat would not stop begging for a drop of water._

_ Then, outlined by the harsh sun, a figure appeared above me. I was blinded by the desert rays, and could not really make sense of much, but all of a sudden, I felt myself being picked up by the strange figure. I attempted to struggle, but I was so weak, so hungry, and so thirsty that the best I could do was twitch my arm. Besides, being cradled wasn't so bad._

_"What have you done, child?" a somewhat familiar voice filled my ears, comforting me in my misery._

_ And I finally fell into the deep black of sleep._

I stumbled on a rock, jerking me out of my memories. I cursed creatively in Elvish, making the speakers of the language look at me incredulously.

Moria wasn't the East, but it was exile, all the same. Just a different type.

I looked around, scanning the faces of my companions. They were my friends (well, except for Boromir), and I had learned to count on them through the journey. Each one was special; each one was dear to me. So, perhaps Moria wouldn't be so bad with them by my side.

Or maybe, it would be worse.


	14. Chapter 13

Second to last day in the mines... and the big chapter comes tomorrow. DUN DUN DUNNNNN!

For now, enjoy some emotional satisfaction before the battles...and losses.

**Disclaimer: I only own Nen, and as much as I love her, it would be amazing if I did not not own the Lord of the Rings.**

Adonneniel POV

_Day 2 of Moria_

I had survived a day in the mines, and this gave me enough confidence to continue on for another, even if it meant I would have to travel with…_him_.

Boromir was possibly more irritating silent than when he talked, for if he was quiet, it was impossible for anyone to truly guess what he was thinking. That in itself was infuriating, but it was worse because he flat-out refused to talk to anyone about the depths of his mind. I had to hand it to the Gondorian; he could be just as stubborn as I if he tried.

So, I would often find myself wanting to beat him over the head with my bow, and then feel a rush of admiration for his persistence. Thus, I was even more conflicted in my mind about the Captain of the White Tree than…well, most things, really. Therefore, after a few hours of trudging quietly alongside the brooding soldier, I got so frustrated that I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Spit it out," I muttered to Boromir, surprising him slightly that I even bothered to talk to him.

"What?" he replied.

Sighing, I repeated the order. I had gained some understanding with him on Caradhras, but it was going to really fade to the back of my mind if he kept this up.

"I do not know what you speak of."

I narrowed my green gaze, pursing my lips in the silence that followed.

"Don't play dumb with me. I've been on Middle Earth long enough to know when a man is hiding something, especially emotional matters. Thus, state it now and get it off of your mind."  
He looked at me, shocked, but quickly erased the feeling from his features. He began to deny the request again, but I shook my head, giving him a menacing glare. With a groan, he finally murmured something that I couldn't catch.

"I'm not an elf, Boromir, and so I obviously cannot hear something so softly said as that."

He gritted his teeth, giving me the impression he was about to stomp away. To my surprise, however, he exhaled and repeated what he had muttered.

"I am simply homesick."

That was not expected.

I cocked my head curiously, waiting for him to explain more. When he looked away, refusing to meet my gaze, I patiently waited in silence. He was going to explain, and that was something I was sure of, even if it took a while.

"I miss my country, Adonneniel. I miss the people, my family, and my friends. I ache for the comfort of real food, and the laughter of my father's court ringing around me. Above everything, though, I miss my brother."

My gaze softened, and before I could prod him on, he continued.

"My little brother's name is Faramir, and he is my best friend. We would always play together as children, and became inseparable until our teenage years. Then, I believe, my father began to favor me, and everyone knew it, especially Faramir. I tried so hard to get Father to see the amazing qualities of my younger brother, from his wisdom to his kindheartedness. No matter what, however, it would not work, and I was always placed first in his affections, to both of our displeasure. Now, I miss the comfort of Faramir, but take comfort in knowing that he is safe back in Gondor."

I smiled sadly, feeling sorry for the poor younger brother, but more concentrated on the kind words pouring from the older one's mouth. Who would have guessed that Boromir had a soft spot?

As if hearing my thoughts, the Gondorian began to turn away from me, but I placed out a hand to stop him. It was my turn to share my secrets if he had entrusted me with his.

"You're not the only one homesick, Boromir."

My quiet tone caught his attention, and we fell back into pace next to each other before I began to speak again.

"I've missed my home for millennia, now, and one of my greatest woes is that I can never return to it. I haven't seen my parents in thousands of years, nor the place where I was born, nor the people I used to call my friends."  
"Unlike you, however, I cannot go back to my home, not until I have proven my worth again. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I have taken an oath to myself to become the Vala reborn. That's why I'm Adonneniel, by the way, because it means rebirth in Elvish."

Boromir's grey eyes met mine.

"You will prove yourself, Adonneniel. I have faith."

I smiled, really smiled, and gave him a playfully light punch on the shoulder. He looked at me, mock-offended, and I giggled slightly.

"Call me Nen."

After all this time, I could finally feel a connection to the man standing next to me. We were finally friends, no longer icy enemies, for we had crossed a bridge, somehow. Our relationship had just needed a little heart-to-heart, which both of us had been too stubborn to have.

I felt eyes on the back of my head, and I turned to see Aragorn staring at us, a strange emotion shining through his grey eyes. I studied him for a second, and took in the facts from his posture. Hand gripping the air close to his sword, his muscles tense, his gaze narrowed, and brow furrowed.

I bit back a laugh, realizing with a shock that he was _jealous_.

Grinning knowingly, I nearly skipped to Gandalf's side, who looked at me curiously. I couldn't stop smiling, for Eru knows why, and I knew I absolutely looked like a fool. The wizard rolled his eyes, seeming to give up on understanding me, before he caught something in the corner of his eye, and raised his staff to illuminate the wall.

My eyes filled with wonder, seeing for the first time that the entire length of the stone walls was covered in silvery veins of sparkling material. It was beautiful, truly gorgeous, and though I would never admit it to anyone (particularly Gimli), I counted these strands of metal among the most stunning things I had ever seen.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels, but _mithril_," Gandalf said, directing the attention of the Fellowship to the walls. "Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave to him."

Gimli gasped.

"That was a Kingly gift!" he said, his beady eyes glinting at the prospect of such a present.

"Yes!" Gandalf replied, and then began to chuckle. "I never told him, but its worth was far greater than the value of the entire Shire!"

The three of us looked at each other, and instantly Gimli and I burst out into laughter, echoing through the narrow hall.

Some time later, the ten of us came onto a landing at the top of some stairs. There were multiple doorways carved into the stone at the top, and Gandalf looked towards each one, before sinking to the ground with a sigh.

"I have no memory of this place."

I groaned, before making my way over to the other side of the stone clearing, and settling down on the hard surface. Gandalf's memory was sometimes spotty, and it could take a while before he recovered his knowledge again. For me, there was no harm in attempting to go to sleep.

Ten minutes later, I still could not even get my eyes to close. Admitting defeat, I sat up straight, attracting the attention of a certain pair of hobbits. I sighed, motioning for them to come over, and immediately Merry and Pippin were seated in front of me.

"Hullo, Nen," they said at the same time, making me smile.

"Good day, gentlemen," I replied. "What is on the minds of the two mischief-makers?"

Merry feigned hurt, placing a hand over his heart, but Pippin grinned at me.

"Nothing, just a burning desire to know more," replied the latter.

I rolled my eyes.

"That will get you in trouble, Pippin."

"Oh, it's already gotten him in trouble. And me as well, most of the time," Merry piped in.

The two mock-glared at each other, and I chuckled.

"Well, Master Took, what do ye wish to know?" I asked, putting on my best impression of a hobbit elder.

Thankfully, both of them laughed, and I winked.

"Anything. Tell us a story!" he ordered.

I obliged, thinking of something to amuse them. I chose a light story, a fairy tale from Rivendell that I had learned from listening to the children there. It was a quaint story, which told the tale of a human princess who had run away from an evil stepmother to live with dwarves. Her stepmother disguised herself as an old hag, and tricked her into falling into a deep sleep, which could only be woken up by the kiss of true love. It ended happily, for once, when a prince came and kissed the princess, which broke the spell. This, of course, spawned a hundred questions about said kiss.

"But how does one know when it's true love's kiss?" Pippin whined.

I sighed.

"It's a fairy tale, Pippin. They just know," Merry answered for me, which made me smile at the hobbit.

"Actually, that's somewhat correct," I explained. "The way I learned it, when you kiss someone who isn't your true love, it just feels like….ummm…you're giving someone a handshake with your lips. You don't feel any emotion behind it, save maybe lust. It's very unromantic. As for true love's kiss…"

I trailed off, getting lost in my memories for a second. I had kissed before, with the one I was going to marry. That wasn't true love's kiss…was it? Pippin nudged my foot, making me snap back to reality.

"I apologize. Anyway, as for true love's kiss, you feel a sort of…how do I explain it…a spark. It inflames your entire body, makes you feel…special. You get entranced in it; lose yourself to your emotions. It's hypnotizing, loving, and romantic, and then you know when it's true love."

The hobbits stared at me, completely out of words for once, and my gaze drifted to rest on the form of Aragorn. Before they could follow my eyes, however, I snapped my attention back to them, chatting before we all fell quiet, waiting for something, anything.

Then, of course, there was nothing to distract me from staring at the Dúnedan. The feelings he created inside of me….could this be what had come over the prince and the princess in the story? Could it be…true love?

I blinked rapidly, trying to stop my thoughts from going there, but it was no use. I had realized it, and now there was no going back.

I was in love with my best friend. I was in love with Aragorn.

Before I could think any more destructive thoughts, a loud rustling filled my ears as Gandalf stood up, pointing towards a door with his staff.

"Oh! It's this way!" he exclaimed, making me sigh in relief.

Merry grinned.

"He's remembered!" the hobbit said to Pippin.

Gandalf snorted, turning to the Brandybuck.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If ever in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

I face-palmed, but immediately stood up, eager to be going again. I could possibly get away from my thoughts if we started moving.


	15. Chapter 14

So... here it is. Day Three. What you (and I) have all been waiting for...

This is the longest chapter I've written so far, and also one of the hardest to write.

**Disclaimer: I honestly can say that I do not own Lord of the Rings...as much as I would like to.**

Adonneniel POV

_The Final Day of Moria_

"I think we can risk a little more light," Gandalf murmured, raising his staff.

The room illuminated before our eyes, and I gasped at the enormous hall stretching out in front of me. It was gorgeous, and a true testament to the workmanship of the dwarves. Curiously, and despite not ever haven been to Moria prior to this expedition, I felt a sense of recognition while staring at the tall columns.

"Behold! The great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

We continued on through the great hall for a longer time than I could keep track of, and then, surprisingly, we were met with the sight of a room full of light. Before we could stop him, Gimli raced from the group, both desperate and anxious to see the fate of his brethren. I called after him, and we all hastened after the dwarf.

When we found Gimli, I was saddened to see the dwarf on the floor, kneeling in despair in front of a large white tomb. My heart reached out for the grieving dwarf, and I knelt to the ground next to him, my hand moving to his shoulder automatically. He shuddered under my touch, racked with horrible sobs.

"Here lies Balin, son of Hundin, Lord of Moria. So…he is dead then," Gandalf closed his eyes, reminiscing about his old friend. "It is as I feared."

My head jerked towards him at once, my mouth open in shock.

**Gandalf…If you, of all people, are admitting to fear, what hope is there for the rest of us?**

He refused to meet my glaring eyes, but I heard his quiet reply in my head.

**There is always hope if there are those who preserve it.**

My gaze narrowed confusedly, and I removed my hand from Gimli's shoulder, going off to stand next to Aragorn. He was using his natural skills as a tracker, replaying the events in his mind.

"Their last stand was made…here," he said, stepping over some rubble. "They fought with courage, but the goblins overwhelmed them."

Legolas stood next to him, and quietly whispered in his ear.

"We must move on. We cannot linger!"

I nodded in agreement, shivers going down my spine from the general feeling of doom in the air.

"They have taken the bridge and the second floor. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long."  
I raised my head, listening to Gandalf as he recited the last account of the dwarves, watching Gimli with sympathy.

"The ground shakes…drums, drums in the deep…We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."

My breath caught in my throat. Shadow and flame…

"We cannot get out. They are coming."

Suddenly, a huge crash echoed throughout the room, and I instantly had my bow out. I was relieved to see it was only Pippin, until an entire skeleton he had been poking fell down the well beside him. It made a huge noise, cracking and crashing against the stones of the well, until it settled at the bottom after a long time.

"FOOL OF A TOOK!" Gandalf roared. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

I gripped my bow with a mix of frustration, anger, and fear, not even noticing as my knuckled went white. Though, that might have been because of…

_Boom._

…that.

I cursed in Elvish once again.

_Boom. Boom. _

"Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, and I turned to the dark-haired hobbit to see that his elvish blade was glowing blue.

"Orcs," Legolas hissed, and I nodded.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. _

Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, and I began to barricade the door with anything we could find, mostly old weapons from the dead dwarves. Boromir peeked outside before I could stop him, and just after I grabbed his collar and pulled him back, two black arrows were stuck in the door right where his head had been. He glanced at me gratefully, and I waved it off, piling more axes onto the doors.

"They have a cave troll," he announced grimly.

I grimaced as we finished barricading the doors, and quickly strung my bow. Legolas and Aragorn did the same thing beside me, and I pondered over Gandalf's words as I nocked two arrows.

**There is always hope if there are those who preserve it.**

My eyes lit up with understanding, and I realized what I had to do. I opened my mouth, about to say something to the man next to me, when Gimli's roar distracted me.

"Bah! Let them come! There is still one dwarf in Moria who draws breath," he growled, making my lips perk up in a smile.

Said smile vanish quickly, replaced by the scowl of battle, because then the doors burst open.

I let my arrows fly, reloading swiftly, watching the lines of orcs and goblins perish under the quick arms of three archers. However, it was not long before there were more and more, and we couldn't keep them all at bay. Aragorn took out his long sword, and he, Boromir, and Gimli quickly jumped into the fight. Any enemies that got past the two archers and the three warriors were picked off by Gandalf, who was busy protecting the hobbits.

I reached back for another arrow, surprised instantly when I realized I was out. Sticking my bow back in my quiver, I jumped into the fray, brandishing my twin blades menacingly.

Then, I transformed, no longer a weak, useless girl, but an experienced, 17,000-year-old warrior. The swords were deadly extensions of my arms, and I whipped around the bloodlust-filled orcs, slashing in smooth motions. In fact, nothing really got past my defenses….that is, until the troll came.

It was huge, menacing, and absolutely disgusting, towering over my head with a heavy-looking hammer. I used my agility to my advantage, running around it to slash his ankle. Before I could do anything, however, it brought the hammer down almost on top of me, and I used my energy to jump away, recoiling as a huge dent became where I was just last. Before I could get up, however, a leering orc entered my vision, stabbing me in the shoulder. I cried out in pain, managing to push him off with my boot, and he was quickly decapitated by Aragorn's long sword. The man fought off the orcs surrounding us as I hastily got up, ignoring the pain in my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he panted, gutting another hideous creature.

I felt a brief flash of pain emanate from my injured shoulder, but I hid my injury from his view as I once again started slashing down rows of orcs. I'd survived much worse pain than a tiny cut.

"I'm fine."

He looked like he wasn't going to believe me, but at that moment, another being caught our attention. Sam was standing in front of the troll, frozen in fear as the hammer rose to crush him. Luckily, he ducked, and the two men pulled on the chain attached to the troll's neck as I defended their backs, slaughtering the orcs around us.

Checking to make sure the hobbits were okay, I was late to see the troll spinning around with his hammer, throwing Boromir across the room. I screamed the warrior's name, and once I saw him blink wearily, I threw myself back into action, cutting down rows and rows of the foul creatures.

Suddenly, a piercing cry filled my ears.

"ARAGORN!" Frodo screamed.

I looked on in horror as the hobbit dodged the troll around a stone column, about to kill him. Luckily, Aragorn stepped right in between them, stabbing the troll with a long spear. I sighed in relief, which quickly turned to a gasp as the troll flung the man across the room, knocking him unconscious. The beast then tore the spear out of its own skin, and hurtled it at Frodo, making him fall to the ground.

"NO!" I shrieked, instantly beginning to slice mercilessly at the legs of the troll, causing it to roar in pain.

Gimli and I managed to bring the creature to its knees, and in the face of opportunity, Legolas shot an arrow into the mouth of the beast, killing it instantly. The orcs were all killed off, too, until there were none left in the chamber but the shocked Fellowship.

I blinked in relief upon seeing Aragorn stand up, albeit shakily, and quickly ran to Frodo's side along with the man. He murmured a sound of disbelief, turning over the hobbit's corpse while tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

Instead of the dull, blank face I expected, Frodo's was bright and shining, clearly alive. I felt my entire body go white with shock, and then flush as I hugged the Halfling close to my heart.

"You should be dead," Aragorn mused, a shadow of a smirk gracing his features. "That spear would've skewered a wild boar."

Gandalf, whose blue eyes were twinkling, rose to stand next to Frodo.

"I assume there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye."

I let the hobbit go, and as he raised his shirt, a surprise was shown to our eyes. A mithril shirt of armor glinted in the harsh light, and I smiled.

"You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," Gimli said merrily.

Gandalf began to move quickly, making us all hastily get up and race after him.

"Quickly, now! To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

We followed the wizard's illuminated staff out into the hall, running as the beat of the drums sounded in our ears. The pain in my shoulder acted up, and I took it out on the hilts of my swords, refusing to let it conquer me. Suddenly, goblins and orcs crawled out from all kinds of places, and I realized with a shock that we were surrounded…and that this seemed eerily familiar. Just as soon as they got our group cornered, they began to retreat, and everything came flashing back to me.

_The goblins had gone, crawling back into the caverns and dark places from whence they came. The large hall was dim, the huge carved columns blocking my vision every time I looked around. Searching for the reason why the foul creatures had left, I turned my gaze to a strange entrance to the dark hall, and saw it was beginning to fill with light. I was surprised, and figured it must have been a force of good. Perhaps Gandalf was causing this._

_ I looked at the wizard, and was shocked to see a look of horror cover his wrinkled features. No, this was not his doing. Not even close._

_ Fearfully, I watched as the light went from pale and welcoming to fiery and dark, a sign of evil. Huge footsteps echoed in my ears, and I felt terror enclose my heart, making it beat fast and erratically. I knew this evil…and I knew we were all going to die._

No. I could not let that happen.

As the events of my dream began to play, I reached over for the wizard's hand. He looked at me, surprised, but I set my mouth in a grim line. I knew what I had to do.

**This is my choice, Gandalf. I am preserving hope. **

His gaze turned sad, and he looked like he was about to refuse, but I ignored him and grasped his arm hard. I transformed my bracelet into my staff, and with my other hand, I placed Belthil on top of our joined hands.

Whispering words of power that I'd never thought I'd use, I watched the green stone light up, but my mind was overcome with the meaning of the spell in the common tongue.

**To thee I give my power, to thee I give my soul. To thee I give my all, to thee I give it whole. The spell is now binding, forever shall it hold. To thee I give my magic, and ne'er shall it unfold.**

And then, I felt…cold. No longer did the burning flame of magic keep my body warm, and so, it was like a part of me had been ripped from my chest. Gandalf blinked slowly, and I could see the rush of power affecting him. Suddenly, we snapped back into reality, and the demon of flame and shadow finally came into view.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir whispered.

"A Balrog," I muttered in reply, feeling a cold sweat break upon my head that had nothing to do with the heat.

"A demon of the ancient world!" Gandalf snapped, the surge of my power causing his eyes to light up in fury. "This foe is beyond any of you. RUN!"

I felt the exhaustion of my entire body come rushing forth as I ran from the demon, and I struggled to push it aside in my shock. The problem was put aside for a bit when adrenaline started to course through my veins, and I rushed the group ahead as Gandalf pulled Aragorn aside for literally a split second.

"Lead them on, Aragorn," he said authoritatively. "The bridge is near. Do as I say!"

Aragorn began to protest, and the wizard gently shoved him forward.

"Swords are of no more use here."

I nodded solemnly, hearing their conversation even as we came to the newest obstacle-a giant, gaping hole in the stairs. I groaned, but Legolas swiftly jumped the gap, motioning for us all to follow him.

Gandalf leaped across the hole, showing a gracefulness that might have been the cause of his newfound power. Arrows clattered around us, setting my nerves on edge, and I quickly shouted for Boromir to take Merry and Pippin across, which he did without delay. I followed soon after, feeling the weariness of my now magic-less body catch up with me after the mighty jump as I fell into Legolas' arms. He released me quickly, but continued to look at me with concern until I shouted for the next person, glaring at him.

"Sam!" Aragorn called, and I swiftly caught the hobbit in my arms as Legolas shot some arrows at the goblins.

To my surprise, the combination of Sam's weight and my weakness nearly allowed me to drop him, but I quickly put him down safely, pushing his back so we raced down the stairs together. I watched warily as the stair began to crack and crumble, and Aragorn made to throw Gimli just like he had done to Sam before the dwarf stopped him.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf."

I smiled wearily as the dwarf gave a mighty leap, and was pulled up at the end (with many complaints) by Legolas grabbing his beard. That left only Aragorn and Frodo.

The Balrog was coming closer to our party, making the jagged rocks of the ceiling come crashing down onto the part of the stair with Aragorn and Frodo on it. The stone stairs wobbled treacherously, and my eyes widened in fear for my friends.

"Lean forward!" the man called to the hobbit, and I bit my lip as they used the momentum of their bodies to pitch the broken stair forwards.

They both jumped at that moment into the waiting arms of Legolas and Boromir, and I half-smiled in relief before a pounding pain in my shoulder alerted me that I was not only exhausted, but injured. I bit my tongue, taking away the pain momentarily.

"To the bridge!" Gandalf yelled in front of us. "Fly!"

Adrenaline and blood pounded in my ears again, and I pushed everyone in front of me across the narrow bridge as fast as their legs could carry them, counting them off one by one before running myself.

Once I reached the other side, I panted and almost began to close my eyes, when I realized something was off. I counted our group again. Pippin, Merry, Sam, Frodo, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Aragorn, and I were all here…but where was Gandalf?

I whirled around, and saw with horror-struck eyes that he was standing on the bridge, alone, facing off with the Balrog. The creature had finally come into view, and it was as frightening as I had dreamed it would be. Dark flames made up its entire body, horns curling at the top of its head, and a flaming sword appearing in its terrible hand.

Gandalf was going to go up against it, alone.

"You cannot pass!" the wizard declared, holding his staff in front of him like a beacon.

"I am a Servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor."

I vaguely heard Frodo scream his name, but I stood in a trance, as if watching all this like an outsider.

"The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!"

The dark creature raised its sword, brining it down on top of the wizard, where it was destroyed by a great white light.

"Go back to the shadow!"

Now, the Balrog created a long, flaming whip. I felt my heart hammering in my chest for my friend, and also a great deal of pain which I blatantly ignored.

"YOU…SHALL NOT…PASS!" Gandalf cried, bringing his staff crashing down onto the bridge.

I held my breath as the demon snorted and stepped onto the bridge. It seemed my fears had been for nothing, however, because instantly the narrow stone crumbled under its feet, sending the dark flame to the depths where it belonged. I began to smile, reaching out to meet my friend.

And then, as if to spite me, the whip cracked from the darkness, and wrapped around Gandalf's ankle.

I tried to run to him, but at that very instant the loss of my magic caught up with me, making me feel a great need to go to sleep and a huge amount of pain. I screamed in despair, watching through tears as my friend was pulled over the side of the bridge, hanging on with only the tips of his fingers.

"NO!" I shrieked, falling to the floor. "OLÓRIN!"

His once-sparkling blue eyes met mine, and flickered over the rest of the Fellowship.

"Fly, you fools!" he yelled, and then, he let go.

It's amazing how your world can be shattered by those three little words.

_He let go._

Tears streaming down my face, I screamed and cried for my oldest friend, fighting my hardest against the urge to succumb to my pain and exhaustion. I collapsed onto the floor, unhearing of anything else but the sound of my sobs, and I could vaguely feel the sensation of being picked up. It didn't matter.

_He let go._

I continued to cry quietly, sinking into the arms of whoever was carrying me out of there. I felt them shift, heavy breaths coming out of their chest, and I was suddenly blinking in the light of outside.

_He let go._

I remembered as I closed my eyes, tears still pouring out of them, that it would be alright, because I had also let go of something. My magic.

I was going to die.

_He let go._

_ But I'll be seeing him soon._

A/N-

Now, calm down, and please don't kill me. I enjoy living.

Please review!


	16. NOT A CHAPTER AN (sorry)

Okay, guys, I am so sorry but I can't update today, which is terrible considering the huge cliffhanger I just left you off with. I apologize, severely, and I PROMISE to have a chapter up tomorrow.

now to clear something up...

Yes, Nen is going to die. It's inevitable.

However, I will not kill off my main character without a reason. Nen shall return from the Halls of Mandos...but at what cost?

I love you all, faithful reviewers, followers, favoriters, and especially my plain old readers. Continue being amazing in my absence. :D

-Archer


	17. Chapter 15

Hey guys, sorry about the wait. I had stuff to do.

**Disclaimer: **

**Nen: OOH! OOH! Can I do it?**

**Me: No, Nen! You're supposed to be dying, for crying out loud!**

**Nen: Awwwww... *puppy dog face***

**Me: *sighs* fine.**

**Nen: YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAAYYYYY! Okay, Archer does not own Lord of the Rings, at all. She does own me, and I'm amazing, so it makes up for it.**

**Me: *mutters under breath* no it doesn't...**

**Nen: What?**

**Me: Nothing! On with the show!**

Aragorn POV

It's the most terrible feeling, knowing that you have to keep going when you can barely force yourself to take a single step further. That is, unfortunately, how I felt as I watched Gandalf fall. Our leader was gone in a heartbeat, the rest of us crumpled immediately.

I knew what he would have wanted me to do, so I forced Boromir and Legolas to get the others out of the mine, and gently picked up Nen from the ground bridal style.

As I raced out of Moria, I looked down at the woman in my arms. She was shaking with sobs, tears soaking through my clothes, making my heart clench painfully in my chest. Nen hardly ever cried, and it was killing me to see her this way.

When we made it outside, I cradled her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her figure and trying my best to comfort her despite the state of my own mind. She gradually closed her eyes, and after a moment, I realized with a shock that she had fallen asleep. I pulled away, and noticed just how pale she was, how thin she looked, and lastly, that there was the brilliant red of blood soaking through her tunic. I narrowed my eyes worriedly, and my healer's instincts took over. Pulling part of her tunic away, just the part at her shoulder, I saw that she _had _been hurt back in the mines, worse than I had thought. Moreover, I knew that we didn't have the medicine necessary to treat her.

Looking around at the rest of the Fellowship, I saw they weren't in good shape, to say the least. Boromir was hanging his head, a single tear falling to the ground. Gimli was howling and raving to go back, and Legolas was closing his eyes, hiding his grief. The hobbits were absolutely devastated, each one crying and hanging on each other.

Glancing back at Nen, I felt my gaze soften even more, and then I realized with a shock that something very, very cold was being pressed against my skin. I rummaged with my hand around my shirt, and I felt the cold coming from a sharp, small object. Pulling it out to look at it, I saw it was the stone Nen had given me. It was no longer lustrous, instead rather dull. I frowned, and tried to think why on Middle Earth that would happen. She had said when she gave it to me that it was a shard of Belthil, and when she was talking to G…_him_ back at the mine, the rock had started to glow.

I instantly slapped a hand to my forehead, wondering how I could have been so ignorant. Nen had used magic back in Moria, and a lot of it. She was now facing the consequences. The obvious question was, how much had she used?

I needed to get her, and everyone else, into safety. We would follow our fallen leader's last directions, and take the road to Lórien, for the elves could help us…if they let us in.

"Legolas, get them up," I said, placing one arm under Nen's knees and the other under her upper back.

"For the pity's sake, Aragorn, give them a moment!" Boromir shouted wearily back to me.

I shook my head, glancing at Nen. She was beginning to stir.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs, and Nen needs Elvish medicine. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien."

Nen had begun to awaken, her eyes fluttering wearily. They finally opened, and her green gaze rested on me. She tried to speak, opening her mouth to say something, when her quiet breathing turned into a violent cough. She raised her hand to cover her mouth, and when she pulled it away, there was blood on it.

"Nen, what have you done to yourself?" I murmured, gathering her closer to my body in concern.

She attempted to smile, but seemed to remember what had happened, and all humor disappeared from her tired face.

"Don't…see the…point in…lying…" she whispered, taking deep breaths and coughing every once in a while. "In the…mines…I…gave my…magic to…Gandalf."

I inhaled sharply, fear and worry penetrating my heart along with sorrow.

"All of it?" croaked a small voice from behind us.

I turned, and saw it was Frodo, who looked like just as bad as Nen. His face was red from crying, and his tiny little body was shuddering uncontrollably. Nen nodded, and moved to sit up. I shook my head at her, but gently angled her body so that she could face the hobbit.

"So…are you…" he murmured, barely getting the words out.

Nen's eyes softened.

"Yes," she mumbled. "I…am…going to…die."

At that moment, it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I bit my lip, trying to take away the tears that were threatening to form in the corners of my eyes. I couldn't let Frodo see me like that, and more importantly, I was not going to let Nen go so easily. The grief that I had been harboring in my mind paled in comparison to the determination now flowing through my entire body

"Not without a fight," I muttered, making two pairs of eyes flit to me. "Come along, Frodo. There is one who dwells not so far from here that can aid us all."

Nen's eyes flashed with understanding, and then a flicker of pain crossed over her face, making her clench her jaw and her heart beat erratically. I reached up a hand to stroke her face, trying to calm her. Her green gaze met my grey, and I felt her heartbeat underneath my own gradually develop a steady beat.

Suddenly aware of the proximity of our bodies, I placed my arm back under her knees, and stood up. It was a few hours to Lothlórien, and we needed to get there as soon as possible.

* * *

Not that much later, what was left of the Fellowship was standing at the edge of the forest, just beginning to enter. I had reluctantly passed Nen to Boromir at his insistence halfway through the trip, knowing that I would have to preserve some of my strength to negotiate our passage with the elves.

Waiting for them to make their appearance, I listened to Gimli talking to the hobbits.

"Stay close, young hobbits!" he warned, gripping his axe. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods, an elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…and are never seen again."

My eyes scanned the trees, waiting for any sound, while the hobbits trembled in fear. Nen scoffed in Boromir's arms.

"Do not talk…about my…friend…that…way, Gimli."

I glanced over at her, worried once again when I saw her cough violently into her arm. Gimli, who also looked concerned about our friend's condition, wrinkled his nose at her statement.

"Well, here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox-AH!"

At that precise moment, the elves revealed themselves, arrows surrounding us on all sides. Legolas had already nocked an arrow, switching his aim between the two elves closest to him. I raised my hands in a signal of peace, and watched curiously as one elf stood out among them all, recognizing him immediately as the marchwarden Haldir.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir mused, making Gimli growl.

We were swept farther into the forest by the elves, pausing once the sky became darker on a platform in the trees.

_"Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil," _Haldir said, inclining his head at the Prince.

Legolas copied him, before speaking again.

_"Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lothlórien,"_ he replied.

Haldir turns to me, some emotion I couldn't place flashing through his wise eyes.

_"Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us."_

_ "Haldir,"_ I responded courteously.

Gimli snorted, setting my nerves on end. This wasn't going to go well.

"So much for the courtesy of the elves! Speak words we can all understand!"

Haldir stiffened, narrowing his eyes.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the Dark Days."

No, this was going to end terribly.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that? _Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul! (I spit on your grave!)_" Gimli shouted, making me stalk over to him and grab his shoulder.

"That was not so courteous," I hissed.

We needed the elves on our side to help us pass, and Gimli was threatening our chances. Haldir glared at the dwarf, before looking over at Frodo, who shifted at his piercing gaze.

"You bring great evil with you," he said, switching his eyes to meet mine. "You can go no further."

I followed the elf as he walked away, clenching my fists furiously.

_"Haldir! We need your protection. The road is fell, and Adonneniel Swiftarrow-"_

He interrupted me, raising a hand.

_"The Lady knew of your coming, and of the Last Vala's condition. She is already spoken for, and is coming with us. The rest of you may not."_

I sighed in relief for Nen's sake, but quickly sobered for the rest of us.

_"I wish that we may come with you as well."_

_ "I cannot grant the request."_

_ "Please, understand, we need your support!"_

Haldir's glare softened, and I pounced.

_"If you command us to leave, you condemn us to death. We carry the fate of Middle Earth on our shoulders, can you not simply spare us a few days of rest?"_

He pursed his lips, and I knew that it would just take a few more words to tip him to our side. Before I could say anything, however, Nen's weak voice echoed from behind us.

_"Please, Haldir…help…them. The road..is..very…dangerous."_

Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. I waited for his judgment.

"You will follow me," Haldir said, leading the way towards the heart of Lórien.


	18. Chapter 16

This was the hardest chapter to write so far. I hate writing death scenes.

**Disclaimer: I still do not own LotR. **

Adonneniel POV

It was hard to stay awake on the journey into Calas Galadhon, especially when I was blindfolded thanks to a certain dwarf. It was a wise decision by Aragorn, of course, but I couldn't help but feel that it was unnecessary considering I already knew the way to the heart of Lothlórien by heart.

Anyway, after some amount of time seeing nothing but the black cloth and feeling every bump in the road as someone carried me; it was a relief when it was removed. I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the lights of the forest.

_"I apologize, Adonneniel, for your needing to be blind,"_ Haldir said, and I realized he was the one who had released me from the darkness. _"Now, you must go with Amathon, for the Lady wishes for you to be tended to."_

I managed to smile at the young elf standing behind Haldir, and felt my weight being transferred from one pair of arms to another. I looked up and saw Aragorn furrowing his brow warily.

"Don't…worry…about…me, Aragorn," I said to him, frustrated with my inability to say a complete sentence without feeling a huge pain in my lungs.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could I was whisked away by Amathon the elf, who gently carried my body away from the Fellowship. I watched them until they were out of sight, and then I paid attention to where Amathon was taking me, noticing that we weren't going to the infirmary.

Amathon seemed to notice my confusion, for he cleared his throat as he carried me up a flight of stairs.

"The Lady of Light wishes for you to be in the most comfort possible and for her personal assistant to attend to your wound."

I nodded weakly.

**My friend…what has happened?**

Galadriel's voice filled my ears, and I smiled sadly before responding quietly.

**I…gave it up. All of my magic.**

I could feel her presence in my mind turn to a much more sorrowful tone, before she spoke again.

**I will do my best to make you comfortable. **

** Thank you, Galadriel. I-I'm sorry…**

** Do not apologize for your own death, Adonneniel.**

I attempted to chuckle, failing miserably.

**How is it that I'm the older one yet you are a thousand times wiser?**

Galadriel's gentle, quiet laughter rang through my head, and then she left my mind, leaving me feeling rather lonely. Amathon finally reached the top of the stairs, which ended in a circular room, open to the sky. The moon shined down, focusing its rays on the center of the room, where there was a single bed with many white sheets and pillows. The rest of the room was bare.

Amathon smoothly laid me down on the bed, leaving to go fetch the doctor. I exhaled slowly and tried to sit up, forgetting for a moment that was a terrible idea. My body convulsed with pain, and I mentally slapped myself for being so stupid.

"That was not one of the best plans," a soft, feminine voice called, and I watched a beautiful elleth walk into the room.

She had the typical blue eyes and pale, flawless skin of an elf of Lórien, but what made her striking was her flaming red hair. I stared at it with an eyebrow raised, and she sighed.

"My name is Eruanna. I am Lady Galadriel's personal healer. As for my hair, which you obviously have questions about, I'll tell you the story as I work. It's quite the tale."

I lowered my eyebrow, but remained curious, intrigued by the elleth's nature. She calmly stood beside me, and raised her hands over my wound. I felt a slight warming sensation, and became amazed as it healed before my very eyes.

"When I was born, I was very sickly and doomed to die. My parents, loyal members of the Lady's court, begged her for a solution. She took me to one of the most sacred parts of Lothlórien, and asked the Valar for guidance."

I flicked my eyes back to her figure, before feeling an immense sense of relief as my pain began to dissipate.

"The Valar took pity on me and blessed me with healing. My hair turned this color, and I achieved the ability to not only magically heal myself, but to do the same to others."

I sighed contently as the pain left my bones completely, and the wound on my shoulder turned to a pale pink scar. Eruanna's brow furrowed and I watched her struggle, before realizing what was happening.

"You can only go so far to help me, Lady Eruanna," I said quietly, reveling in the fact I could once again speak leisurely. "It is impossible to heal someone's age. Thank you for taking away the pain, but I will still die from being thousands of years old."

Her face became a mask of pity, and I pursed my lips. She smiled sadly at my expression, and then her pointed ears pricked up, detecting a sound.

"I take my leave," she murmured, standing. "There is someone here to see you."

I truly did sit up then, pushing my back against the many pillows. I began to hear the sound of someone running up the stairs, and eventually saw a person I knew better than myself come into the room.

Aragorn arrived, panting slightly, and rushed to my side, worry and other things I couldn't discern racing through his eyes. I half-smiled when he glanced at my shoulder, shocked to see the scar.

"Aside from my old age shutting down my body, Aragorn, I'm alright. Galadriel's healer took away the pain."

He kneeled down onto the floor, looking at me with such sorrow it broke my heart. Tenderly, I reached out and placed a hand on his, causing him to grip it like a lifeline.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his eyes soft.

"No," I muttered, leaning closer to him to touch the pocket where he carried the shard I gave him. "You will never lose me, so long as you have this."

He raised his other hand to meet the one on his chest, taking the shard out.

"Belthil is not just a rock, you know. It's the representation of my soul. Therefore, even after I am….gone…"

He swallowed hard at that statement, a single tear making its way down his cheek. I took my hand from his chest, raising it to his face to wipe the tear away.

"…you will _never _be alone."

Aragorn's grey gaze met mine, and my heart began to pound in my chest at our current position, but I didn't dare to move away. He slowly placed the rock back into his pocket, never breaking the stare, and I finally recognized the emotion in his eyes, because it reflected my own.

Love.

Something seemed to click in both of us, and we leaned in at the same time, our heads meeting in the middle, foreheads pressed together. I breathed shakily, closing my eyes in happiness, unable to believe this was really happening.

I smiled, giggling softly. Aragorn's forehead crinkled as he smiled as well, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine.

It was tender and soft, as if he was afraid of breaking me, but a roaring fire suddenly lit in my stomach, a burning passion I hadn't felt since my magic left my body. I moaned in pleasure, wrapping my arms around his neck. He leaned back, shuddering in a mixture of desperation, sadness, and the complete opposite emotion of delight.

Before either of us could do anything further, the loud sound of many feet running came from the stairs. We broke apart, and I was greeted with the sight of the rest of our Fellowship entering the room. The hobbits bounded to both of my sides, sobbing and begging me not to leave them. Legolas, Boromir, and Gimli came after them, standing solemnly at the foot of the bed. Aragorn cleared his throat and moved behind me, placing a hand on the wood behind the pillows. I smiled sadly, and looked around at each of the people I held dear to my heart.

"One of the wisest things someone ever said to me was, 'I will not tell you to stop crying, for not all tears are an evil.'" I recited, remembering the words of my oldest friend.

At that, the hobbits began to sob even more, pressing their heads into my bed sheets. I sighed and ruffled the hair on Frodo's head, before feeling a sudden wave of tiredness come over me. It was time to go.

I looked pointedly at the three warriors standing at my feet.

"Take care of them."

Gimli, Boromir, and Legolas each nodded, sorrow making them mute. Frodo looked up, stifling a sob, his nose and eyes red.

"Take care of _him_," I said to the hobbit, motioning with my head to Aragorn.

Tears spilled down his pale cheeks, but he nodded. Aragorn inhaled shakily, making me raise a hand up to him, which he took immediately, cradling it in his own. Galadriel's sad presence filled my mind, and she whispered to me.

**I will miss you, my friend.**

I smiled slowly, looking up at the moon shining above me. So beautiful. I'd miss seeing it.

"I will miss you, too," I said aloud, meaning it for everyone around me.

"Nen," Aragorn whispered, the last voice I would hear.

Exhaustion filled my bones, and I softly exhaled, closing my eyes. A brighter light than I had ever seen appeared beneath my eyelids, and I felt myself reaching for it. And that was the last thing I knew before the light consumed me.

A/N: Be prepared for multiple points of view in the next chapter! See you soon!


	19. Chapter 17

I'm very disappointed in your lack of trust in me if you honestly thought that was how the tale would end. No way, Jose. You'll just have to read the tale in two different perspectives for now, mostly Aragorn's in this chapter.

As for Eruanna, my OC in the last chapter, she might come to play in another story I might possibly do after this one (not that this is going to end anytime soon). The reason for her existence? Blame my friend, the one who wanted this to be a Legolas/OC fanfic. I promised her that if I made this an Aragorn/OC story, she'd get an eventual sequel with a Legomance.

Anyways, on with the show!

**Disclaimer: Adonneniel Swiftarrow and my other OCs (how significant they will be for the rest of the stories is debatable) are the only things that belong to me. Everything else belongs to the great and amazing Tolkien (the direct lines go to Peter Jackson).**

Aragorn POV

I believe it was when her hand went limp in mine that my world shattered. I bowed my head, not trusting myself to stop the tears from coming. With the two of the greatest people I ever knew gone, how are the rest of us to survive until the end?

I vaguely sensed some elves rushing into the room, urging us to leave the…body. Someone placed a hand on my shoulder, and I violently shook my head, grasping the cold hand that used to belong to the woman I had just fallen for.

Two calloused hands separated us, and I looked up to see Legolas' sorrowful face hovering above me. I cried out, reaching back for Nen, but Legolas held me back, pulling me down the stairs.

_"She has gone where you cannot follow,"_ he mumbled into my ear, and I stopped resisting, knowing that he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. _"Come, Aragorn, and tell of your grief in your dreams. You must rest."_

I nodded slowly, closing my eyes as he led me down to the forest floor, where we were to rest. He placed me on a bench, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Whether for better or for worse, however, I couldn't think about anything save that which would bring me pain. I exhaled, and listened to see if the others were doing any better. Instead, I heard the elves singing, sorrowfully expressing their anguish.

_"Olórin, who once was…_

_ Sent by the Lords of the West_

_ To guard the lands of the East_

_ Wisest of all Maiar_

_ What drove you to leave_

_ That which you loved?"_

The words changed, a different singer sharing their woe.

_ "Nielíqui, the Little Dancer_

_ Long have you suffered evil_

_ Long have you ached for good_

_ Renamed and reborn as Adonneniel_

_ Why did you sacrifice_

_ The only fire you held?"_

I bit down a sob as the words changed to Sindarin.

_"Mithrandir, Mithrandir O Pilgrim Grey"_

A higher, more feminine voice answered.

_"Swiftarrow, Swiftarrow O Vala Reborn"_

The lower voice replied.

_ "No more will you wander the green fields of this earth"_

_ "No longer will you protect the ones you love" _

The voices joined as one.

_ "Your journey has ended in darkness._

_ The bonds cut, the spirit broken"_

The male voice sang again.

_ "The Flame of Anor has left this World"_

The feminine voice echoed him.

_"The Last of the Valar has returned home"_

A solemn silence followed, the last line of the song ringing through the forest as the voices sang in harmony.

_ "A great light, has gone out."_

I inhaled slowly, knowing that their song has exactly expressed the grief I felt. Legolas shifted some distance behind me, listening to the notes of the song begin again.

"A lament for Gandalf and Nen," he told the hobbits, surprising me a little when he said her nickname.

"What do they say about them?" Merry asked quietly.

Some leaves rustled as Legolas moved around.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is all too near."

**For me as well, **I thought wearily. **But now that Gandalf has left me to lead, I must act in his place.**

I stood up, taking a deep breath and walking over to where Boromir was resting.

Adonneniel POV

The light began to fade as soon as I had walked into it, revealing a sight I knew as well as the back of my hand. Anar, the Undying Lands, where the Vanyar and Valar lived, but known under a different name to me.

Home.

I laughed in bliss, watching as a great hall appeared around me, one I often visited as a child. A roaring fire blazed in a carved hearth, many windows revealing beautiful scenes of the southern pastures and Nienna's home in the north. A huge throne was directly in front of me, made of materials unknown to Middle-Earth, and containing a great man, or should I say Vala.

A stern expression was on his noble face, dark eyes flashing in recognition. Long dark hair was parted in the middle, trailing down onto his leisure-like clothing. He showed no signs of pity for me, which would make sense considering the only time he had been moved to such emotion was when Lúthien herself sang to him. This was Námo, or Mandos, as he was more commonly known as.

"I have waited for you a long time, Nielíqui," he said, his voice booming throughout his great halls.

My smile faltered a little before it returned in full force.

"I am home," I breathed out joyously, spinning around and around the large room.

Mandos, true to his nature, didn't even crack a hint of a smile.

"Thus, it is time for your judgment," he called, standing up, his grim eyes delving deep into my soul.

I waited patiently as memories, both good and bad, flashed before my eyes, knowing fully well that Mandos could see them also. After a while, once he had gone through them all, he cleared his throat.

"You have seen both good and evil, Little Dancer. Though as far dark as you have gone, you have proven yourself multiple times to truly be reborn into the light. I declare you to be worthy of whatever reward the great Ilúvatar wishes to bestow upon you."

I grinned, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, as Mandos waved for me to leave his hall. I looked back at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion. He sighed, keeping a complete poker face.

"You will return, of course, for your soul shall rest in the Halls of Mandos unless there is a reason to bring you back. But for now, Eru Ilúvatar deems that you have earned a visit with your family."

I bounded out of the Halls, running down a path I remembered from times long, long ago.

Aragorn POV

Our three boats pushed out from the dock, gracefully causing ripples to glide across the water. Boromir, Merry, and Pippin sat in one; Legolas and Gimli in another; Frodo, Sam and I in the last. I dipped my head as we passed Lady Galadriel in her swan-like boat, remembering her gift to me.

_"I have nothing greater to give, than the gift you already bear," the Lady said, motioning towards the pocket where I held Nen's stone._

_ She pulled out a glistening silver chain, a single carved setting with no stone the only thing it held. I handed her the shard, and she gently placed it into the setting, the green shining beautifully against the silver of the necklace. She gave it back to me, and I placed it around my neck so that it was right above my heart._

_"For her love, I fear the wisdom of Adonneniel Swiftarrow…will diminish."  
I furrowed my brow._

_ "What do you mean, my Lady?"_

_ Lady Galadriel flashed a small smile._

_ "You know as well as I do, Aragorn son of Arathorn, that Adonneniel was never that wise to begin with, and the most stubborn person I ever met. She had a will strong enough to match any of her kin, and she would do anything to protect the ones she loved."_

_ I tilted my head slightly, still not understanding. Galadriel's eyes twinkled with an emotion I couldn't discern and she spoke again._

_ "The choice is yet before her. You have your own choice to make, Aragorn… to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness… with all that is left of your kin."_

_ A silence falls between us, before she continues._

_ "Farewell. There is much you have yet to do."_

_ Her tone turns much more sorrowful, reminding me of my own misery being kept at bay._

_ "We shall not meet again, Elessar."_

I push the boat down the river, the gentle sound of the waves against the boat lulling me out of my memory. Frodo and Sam sit in front of me, and I sigh, my eyes softening.

**I will protect them as best I can for you, Nen. But more than anything, I wish you were here to help me.**

A/N: Well, that was shorter than I would've liked, but Nen's tales in the Undying Lands had to wait until the next chapter. See you soon!


	20. Chapter 18

Mmmm... more stuff happening in Anar than Middle-Earth. Not for long! On with the show...

**__****Disclaimer: I really don't own The Lord of the Rings! I own Nen. Peter Jackson owns the direct lines from the movie. Tolkien owns everything else.**

Adonneniel POV

I run down the stone path, smiling so wide it was beginning to hurt my cheeks. I washome! Ah, if only I could tell Boromir this…

I slow down, wondering at that thought. Why would I want to tell him that? Wait, who was I thinking about again? My memory seemed to become blank at that moment, leaving me wondering what I was thinking about in the first place.

**That would be an unfortunate side effect of death, especially if you want to be truly reborn. **

I gasp at the voice in my mind, both at its unexpectedness and the voice itself. It was so beautiful, and so complex, like thousands of different voices combined as one. Strangely, it was familiar as well.

**Yes, I have spoken to you before, Youngest of the Valar. You do not remember, but if you come to me, I can remind you. **

I was so dumb-struck by the pure splendor and magnificence of the sound that I almost couldn't answer properly.

**Wh-who a-are you?** I thought, wondering if the voice could read my thoughts.

**You will recall shortly. Come, Little Dancer. Come to the heart of Anar, where I am waiting. **

For some reason, I couldn't help but obey the mysterious voice, and my feet seemed toact by themselves. Everything seemed to speed into a blur, and in an instant I was standing somewhere very, very different from the Halls of Mandos, the Pastures of Yavanna, or even the my father's forests.

Looking around, I saw basically no walls, no ceiling, just a blank, white floor. Everything besides the floor was a strange, swirling sight, likes clouds of orange, blue, green, red and every other color imaginable. Twinkling stars appeared in these clouds, drifting closer and farther away from the floor. I stood open-mouthed, in awe of this place, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

**At last, Little Dancer, you have come home. **

It was that voice again, yet this time, the words were not just in my head, but echoing around the entire room. In front of where I stood, the clouds seemed to join together, condensing into a vague form of a man, lit by a glorious light, which fastened into two eyes right where the head would be. By some instinct that I couldn't name, I fell to the ground at this sight, bowing low and deep, basically groveling on the floor.

**Rise. **

I did as he (I thought the majestic being was male, at least) commanded, slowly standing up to face the being.

**I am the One, or Eru Ilúvatar as some know me. **

My eyes must've been bugging out of my head, and my jaw dropped so low I had to physically use a hand to raise it. No words could possibly describe the awe I was feeling now, and no song could even begin to examine the thoughts running through my head.

A chuckle filled the room, so beautiful it was beginning to bring tears to my eyes. Strangely enough, I felt no shame as a single tear rolled down my cheek, mostly because I was still so numb in amazement I couldn't even open my mouth to speak.

**I took special interest in you, child, simply because you are a very special girl, or should I say Vala. I gave you life, even though you were born of your parents, and I saw the importance you would have in this world. I give you back your memory, so that you may understand the role you have played in my creation. **

As soon as the great being said that, my head rolled back, and I fell to the floor yet again, probably bruising my knees in the process. It was nothing compared to the brutal torture my mind was going through as thousands upon thousands of memories came flooding back to me at once, reminding me what I had been through, what I had done, and who exactly I was.

**You are three different people wrapped up in one, Little Dancer. You are the childish Nielíqui, who represents your vibrancy and happiness; the deadly Echo, who represents your darker side, anger, and passion; and finally, the rather odd character of Adonneniel. In this last form you are best shown, the interesting twist of great skill combined with heroism, love, and friendship. In the form of Adonneniel, you sought to regain your true character, to be reborn as whom you truly are. By sacrificing yourself to save the ones you loved, you truly earned rebirth. I name you now as your true name, which has always been Adonneniel. Farewell, foolish Nielíqui and dark Echo. They left their mark on your character, but you are not them anymore. You are you, you are Adonneniel. **

I took a deep breath from my spot on the floor as the One's words rang through my mind, seeing them as the ultimate truth, the speech I had been waiting for all my life. I closed my eyes and stood up; opening them as fiery emotion came pouring from my soul. As silly as it sounded, I was me, finally. The One laughed again, causing my eyes to water with emotion.

**Little Dancer, I see you worthy of a great honor. Your connection to me has been restored. **

Suddenly, it seemed as if a terrible wound on my heart had healed, and I could hear blood pounding in my ears, an amazing power coming alive in my veins. A blazing flame lit in my chest, fueling my body with a grand rush of magic. I smiled wide, basking in the glory of the One.

**There is one last thing I must discuss with you, Little Dancer, before you must leave to return to the Halls of Mandos. **

Something in the One's tone made me feel anxious, but I finally recovered a bit of my strength and managed to nod, an impressive feat for me at the time.

**A great choice is upon you, Little Dancer. You, having free will, may choose between two courses of action. The first being that you would stay in Anar with your family and I; the second being that you would return to Middle-Earth, where you also have those you love. Take this into consideration first, that there is a cost to be paid for any who return to Middle-Earth from the Undying Lands. This cost is specific to each who go, and for you, it will take something very precious, but expected. You belong in the Halls of Mandos, for you have passed from the living, and so to the Halls of Mandos you will have to eventually return. Therefore, you must become mortal to return to Middle-Earth. **

The news surprised me, especially because I had no idea what I could return to a few minutes before. Now that I had a choice, it was confusing me greatly, and I would definitely need to think about this. As if hearing my thoughts (which he probably was), the One spoke again.

**Do not fret; you need not decide at this very moment. In some time, you will need to return, for there is someone else who is going back. You will know when you will come back and make your decision. **

I nodded slowly, making myself proud, and suddenly, the world shifted again, placing me back in the Halls of Mandos.

Aragorn POV

We rested on a small island that night, on the banks of the river. We made camp quickly, but no one was ready to go to sleep immediately. It was apparent how the lack of two important people was getting to us, despite how much I tried to stay strong and silent.

Frodo had looked at me curiously throughout the entire journey downriver, and I remembered what Nen told him before she…

I shook my head violently, clearing my thoughts before I would let grief overcome me. Spotting a strange sight on the bank of the river, I narrowed my eyes. There were gruesome hands gripping a log, reflective eyes looking at us in the night. I knew this creature, despite how much I didn't want to.

"Gollum," I growl to Boromir, who had seen him as well. "He has tracked us since Moria."

The disgusting, hacking cough of the creature rang through the night, making the two of us grimace.

"I had hoped we would lose him on the river, but he's too clever a waterman."

Boromir's gaze turned from Gollum, catching my own.

"And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts it will make the crossing even more dangerous."

I nod silently, thinking the route over in my head. Gandalf had only laid out our path so far, and there was still the question of exactly how to get to Mordor. As if hearing my thoughts, Boromir spoke up again.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know it. From there we can regroup, and strike out at Mordor from a place of strength."  
I glance at him warily.

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us."

Boromir's chest puffed out, fury in his eyes.

"You were quick to trust the elves. Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness and frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men…yet you cannot see that."

I turn away, anger flickering through my body, not wanting to unleash it while the hobbits were near. Unfortunately, Boromir grabbed my arm.

"Scared of who you are, of what you are," he sneered, making me clench my fists hard, trying not to react violently.

I turn away; ready to let it go, when I realized I could not. How could he not see the weakness of men? If he needed an example, he could just simply look at me. I had been heartbroken too many times to count, and given away it a final time only to have the recipient leave this world. If a man could not control his heart, what hope did he have for his mind, let alone for the rest of his people?

Fury and despair clouding my mind, I turn back to Boromir quickly.

"I would not lead the Ring within a thousand yards of your city," I hiss, before hastily stalking away to be alone.


	21. Chapter 19

Another split point of view chapter! *half-hearted cheers are shouted randomly for a short time, and then everyone goes silent* Why isn't anyone else happy about that?

Random person (a.k.a. my conscience): BECAUSE IT MEANS ARAGORN AND NEN ARE STILL SEPERATED!

Me: *sigh* It's a shame you're right... Wow, I have got to stop talking to myself! On with the show!

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, I don't own LotR. Nor do I own the direct lines from the movies. I own Nen. That's it.**

Aragorn POV

It was clear to all, even those who hadn't heard our conversation, that Boromir and I were not on good terms at the moment. Because of this, there was very little chatter throughout the time we took down the stream, though for many other reasons as well. One could take a glance at Frodo and immediately know he was feeling the effect of the burden he was to bear much worse now that Nen and Gandalf…

I sighed quietly, knowing that all of this rowing left me to my thoughts, and that was a dangerous place to be currently. Judging by the glances Legolas and Gimli would sometimes throw my way, they thought I had changed for the worse. I scowled at that, knowing it was true, but hating to admit that the…loss…of two of my greatest friends was making it all too clear to me how much the rest were depending on me to lead the way.

**What would you have me do, Gandalf?** I thought wearily, sadness aching through my bones.

As much as I missed his soothing presence, I had to admit there was one I longed for more.

Nen.

I missed her laughter, so loud, so contagious. I yearned for her insight, her rare spots of wisdom that surprised all of us, probably she herself as well. Her eyes, the way they would change shades depending on her mood, were forever lit with sparkling emotion in my memory, and all of her smiles, from the mysterious smirk that graced her full lips when she was being mischievous to the bright grin she wore when she was content, played behind my eyelids every time I laid down to go to sleep.

I inhaled sharply, reminding myself it was not the time to grieve for the fallen when other matters were at hand. I blinked rapidly, clearing my sight and my mind at the same time.

Suddenly, I smiled as we turned a corner in the river, hearing a faint rumbling sound in the distance. I had momentarily forgotten we would pass this sight on the way, and felt a shiver of excitement roll down my spine.

Lifting my head and smiling for the first time in a while, I gaze upon the greatest statues I had ever seen, giant stone kings from times long ago. Isildur and Anárion, two of my greatest ancestors, keeping the enemies of Gondor at bay.

I nudged Frodo, who looked up at stared at the statues, dumbfounded.

"This, my friend, is the Argonath! Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

What was left of the Fellowship gazed in wonder at the great stone kings, and I felt my smile falter.

**If only Nen had been able to see this.**

Adonneniel POV

Apparently, Mandos doesn't see randomly popping into his Halls as an unusual occurrence. He barely noticed me as he sorted through some more soul-relating business, glancing up only a single time with glazed-over eyes.

For some reason, I hadn't missed that particular Vala at all. Looking around, I saw that there were some guests in this hall, two people who I indeed had missed with every breaking bone in my body.

One was a man, with straight, dark brown hair, and piercing green eyes that reminded me of someone else's. He wore hunter's clothing, with a long green cloak covering light armor and leather boots. The brief smell of horse was coming from him, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing he had been riding Nahar yet again. When he saw me, his eyes turned a much lighter green, and sparkled with joy.

The other was a woman with lighter brown hair streaked with gold (also quite recognizable as belonging to someone else), warm honey-colored eyes, and a forever young face, which had earned her the name the Ever-young. She wore a beautiful dress that seemed to have literally been made from flowers, covered in green, white, and pink buds. Her entire face lit up when her gaze landed on me, her white smile nearly blinding.

Father. Mother.

I instantly burst into gleeful laughter, and rushed to them with my arms wide open. Mother picked up her skirts, meeting me in the middle with a (still) graceful hug, her eyes closed and a single crystalline tear dripping from one. Father joined us, wrapping us both in a bone-crushing embrace, which caused me to gasp for breath before he roared with laughter, and put us down, still keeping his arms around the two of us.

I could feel the tears pouring from my eyes, but I didn't care. I sobbed and cried, telling them in every breath how much I had missed them, how so, so sorry I was, and how much I loved them. They murmured forgiveness in my ears, and then we just stood there, delighting in each other's presence for many, many minutes.

Mandos looked up at this, his eyes flickering with a touch of emotion before he became completely blank-faced again. I felt a twinge of annoyance, but ignored it, and continued to press my face into my father's chest.

After some time, we finally let go, and sat down in some lounge chairs that had spontaneously appeared in front of the fireplace. There, I told them my entire story, feeling guilty when Mother flinched at the more gory parts and somewhat glossing over the more feminine aspects for Father.

When it finally came to tell them of the moments between Aragorn and I, I instantly froze, memories I had just re-gained coming back to greet me. Over the course of our journey together, our relationship had completely flipped, turning into something I had no idea what to call. I knew I had incredibly strong feelings for him, and vaguely could recall something happening that assured me of his continued affection. I shook it off, but rather reluctantly told them of what had happened between the two of us, remembering everything as I went along.

It was only when I was recalling my final moments that I was hit suddenly with what exactly had happened, and the story came to a grinding halt. I couldn't get my mouth to move, let alone tell my life-story, as I remembered that Aragorn…

He had…kissed me.

_Kissed. Me._

And I…sort of…maybe…definitely…had liked it.

Then, of course, my soul had promptly left my body to quickly decay from thousands of years of age. I really had terrible timing.

"Darling, are you alright?" Mother asked, one of her delicate eyebrows raised in concern.

I nodded quickly, debating inside my head whether to tell them about the kiss or not. Father seemed to have realized I was arguing with myself, because he grinned widely. I furrowed my brow at him, and he quickly began to look like he was holding in a guffaw.

"Uh, Father? Do you possibly have something to say?" I asked warily, not really sure if I wanted an answer.

He then proceeded to burst into laughter, holding his stomach as he writhed in mirth. I glared at him, pursing my lips.

"I (laughter) can remember (laughter) a similar expression (choking laughter) on your mother's face (chuckle) when she tried to (chortle) tell her sister about (final burst of laughter) the two of us becoming betrothed."

I was sure my face must've been priceless at that moment, because Mother hastily covered her mouth with a hand as she giggled, too. I glared at the two of them for laughing at my indecision. Finally, Father had calmed down enough to speak clearly.

"I've been waiting to have this talk with you, daughter. It is clear to both of your parents that you fancy yourself in love with this man, and I trust you enough to guess this correct. Ordinarily, I would have protested that he is a mortal, and no mortal is worthy of _my_ daughter. However, the One informed me of the choice ahead of you, so if you decide to return to Middle-Earth, that wouldn't be a problem."

My gaze clouded over with confusion at his calmness. He noticed this quickly.

"My dear child, it is your decision and yours alone. Your mother and I have waited for you for thousands of years, and we can wait some more. You will return to the Halls of Mandos anyway, so we will be able to visit you someday."

I nodded at his wisdom.

"Anyway, if you are to marry anyone," he said, completely ignoring the sputter of surprise I gave at that word relating to matrimony, "it would be fit to be one like the great Aragorn, Isildur's Heir. From what we have heard from your tale, as well as the great visions of the One, I deem him almost worthy of your hand. Almost. For if he hurts you in any way, I will not hesitate to-"

I snort at this. Father was not allowed to leave Anar, much as he would like to sometimes, for he was far too powerful to wander around Middle-Earth aimlessly. Therefore, any threat he gave to Aragorn would be invalid, seeing as he truly could not reach him. Despite this, Father continued to ramble on about the various gruesome punishments he would deliver said man, until Mother finally sighed and made him stop.

The two of us burst into chuckles when he looked at us indignantly, clearly miffed about the interruption.

Aragorn POV

We started to make camp, each of us weary or annoyed in some way or form. I pull the boats in, tying them to a stump, and then trudge back to the rest, taking on a demanding tone.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North."

The hobbits, who were trying to doze off, barely recognize that I spoke. Gimli and Legolas, however, are all too knowledgeable.

"Oh, yes?" the dwarf sputtered angrily. "It's just a _simple _matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, the impassible labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks!"

I glance sharply at him, knowing that he was beginning to scare the hobbits.

"And after that, it gets even better!" he starts to continue, making Pippin's head shoot up in fright.

"Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see-"

I narrow my gaze, interrupting him to ease the mind of the young hobbit.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

I turn away quickly, my temper short already because of all the business with Boromir. Legolas sympathetically moves to my side, but behind us I can hear the mumbling of the dwarf.

"Recover my..? Argh…"

Legolas' gaze goes cloudy, and I knew instantly something was wrong. He finally looks at me, and speaks.

"We should leave now."

I shake my head immediately.

"No, we cannot. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for the cover of darkness."

He looks away again at something in the distant woods close to us.

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me."

Nerves rolled around in my stomach, knowing that the words of the elf were golden.

"A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near…I can feel it."

I bit my lip, looking back at the group behind us. With the help of my Dúnedain skills, I can sense something wrong as well. Gimli was still grumbling about my comment, when Merry came rushing back into the camp, carrying firewood, and looking around. He spotted Pippin and Sam, and suddenly glanced at me, eyes wide.

"Where's Frodo?"  
Sam wakes up at that comment, and his anxiety for his master seemed to spread through us all. I swiftly glance towards Boromir's spot to ask if he had spotted him, only to see a shocking sight.

His shield was lying there, alone. Boromir was not present, as well.

This was most certainly not good.


	22. Chapter 20

Wow, this is the last chapter of the Fellowship of the Ring...time really flies when you're writing fanfiction! On with the show!

**Disclaimer: If I owned LotR, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, now would I? Woe is me to solely own Nen! **

Adonneniel POV

My parents and I had talked for such a long time, I had lost track of it, which was easy to do in Anar considering the strange sense of time here. I sighed as Father began yetanother hunting story, which most likely would end in some way with him showing extreme bravery and cunning.

As if in response to my desire to escape the story, I felt a huge pulling sensation attack my body, dragging me out of the chair and down the hall. I cried out in surprise, and my parents rose to grab my arms, when a voice sounded around the room, one I had come to praise as if it was life itself.

**It is time.**

I felt the pressure again, and this time, I began to sink into the floor as I had done earlier. I caught my father's eye and smiled at my mother, managing to get out a "goodbye" before I was pulled completely into the presence of the One.

Shaking my head from the strange feeling that had taken me here, I bowed low and deeply before the One's throne, noticing something new in the room in the corner of my eye. I glanced at it as I rose slowly; staring when I realized it was a completely white bed, with an elderly figure shrouded in a white haze around it. I reached out to penetrate the cloud, clear it away so I could see the face of the figure, but the voice of the One called out to stop me.

**Not yet, Little Dancer. There is something else you need to see. **

I nod courteously, making my way back over to kneel a small distance away from the foot of the great throne. A great pressure built in the air as something rose above my head, hovering right above my forehead. I close my eyes, feeling it was the right thing to do.

I was bombarded with images after I sealed my eyelids, showing a moving vision of my former companions in woods I didn't recognize. The vision slowed down, and Frodo and Boromir appeared in my view. They argued, and I watched as if from afar, not able to do anything, as the Gondorian attacked the hobbit. My mouth hung open in horror as Frodo turned invisible, running away from Boromir with the Ring on his finger. Mute, I watched with (surprisingly) very little anger and more pity as Boromir realized what he had done, his eyes mirroring mine in an expression of terror.

The vision began to speed past, and I saw Frodo fall from the top of some ruins, Aragorn coming up behind him. My heart ached as I watched the two converse, and then nearly stopped when Frodo offered the Ring to Aragorn. Desperately, I reached out with my hand, touching nothing but air, knowing I couldn't physically do anything.

Suddenly, it was as if a flame had spontaneously burst into life in my head. Not physically, but perhaps I could still touch my best friend's mind.

Then, I did the only thing that I could think of, something I hadn't done in years, not having the capability of doing it after my severing-of-connection and not wanting to do it before.

I began to sing.

Aragorn POV

Immediately, we set out, searching for our two missing friends. I broke apart from the rest, my mind whirring, following the trail Frodo had left.

**I must find him**, I thought as I swiftly read the signs of a struggle, wondering what on Middle-Earth he had been doing, following the tracks up the hill. **I will not break my promise to Nen so easily. **

Briefly, I touched the stone on my neck, just as I reached the top of the mound. Crumbling but majestic ruins covered the grass, a stairway running up to the top level. I ran quietly up to it, relief soothing my heart when I saw the small figure of the dark-haired hobbit lying on the ground.

"Frodo?" I call, becoming rather startled when he recoils back from the sound of my voice instantly, his usually innocent blue eyes narrowed and spiteful.

He relaxes a bit at the sight of me, though I can see his small muscles are still tight and tense.

"It has taken Boromir," he quietly says, making my thoughts darken.

He means the Ring, surely…but has he revealed it? Is that why it took Boromir, as he claims? But what of the safety of the Ring…has it been taken, stolen? Did Frodo prove himself a fool and give it up?

"Where is the Ring?" I growl, not even noticing the tone of my voice until the terrified hobbit scurried away from me.

Instantly, I felt a pang of regret, and instantly become guilty of my dark thoughts. I quickly follow him, spreading my hands open in a form of friendliness.

"Frodo, I swore to protect you," I remind him, furrowing my brow at the strange look in the hobbit's eyes.

He faces me, as if steeling himself.

"Can you protect me from yourself?"

Frodo opens his hand, the Ring appearing in his palm. My gaze falls upon it immediately, and my mind goes completely blank, the Ring the only thing I see.

"Would you destroy it?"

At those words, my mind filled with battling thoughts, some huge, dark part of me I didn't know existed telling me to take the Ring for myself, use it to become the greatest of my line. The smaller, weaker voice of reason violently countered against it, reminding me that the Ring has but one master. I take a step forward, my eyes on the Ring as a dark voice echoes through my mind.

**Ar..a…gorn…Ar..a…gorn….E….less…ar… **

My thoughts clouded over into an evil cloud of darkness, the voice of the Ring convincing me this was how I could become King. The light of good shouted against it, reminding me that I didn't want to be King in the first place, that I had chosen exile long ago, but it faded as the Ring dominated over my thoughts.

And then, as if someone had heard the good voice's plea for help, an entirely different voice rang inside my head, a song swelling. This one was achingly beautiful, extremely familiar yet impossible to place.

**When the cold of winter comes, **

**Starless night will cover day.**

My eyes widened, and instantly, the good in my heart rose to a great power, feeding off of the song.

**In the veiling of the sun, **

**We will walk in bitter rain.**

The song continued to play in my head as I knelt in front of Frodo, using all of my self control to slowly fold his hand over the Ring, driving all of its evil thoughts from my head.

**But in dreams… **

I pushed his hand towards his chest, and he looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

**I can hear your name. **

My gaze turned mournful as well, realizing what Frodo meant to do.

"I would have gone with you until the end, into the very fires of Mordor," I said sadly, clutching his hands in mine.

**But in dreams… **

His smile was small, meant to reassure me.

"I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand."

I nod sorrowfully, my mind taking note of how similar this was to the promise I made to Nen.

**We will meet again. **

The line of the song came with eerie timing, making me wonder exactly who was singing, why he or she was in my head, and most importantly if he or she meant anything by this particular song.

Something glowing blue caught my eye, and the song cuts off, leaving my questions unanswered.

"Go, Frodo," I murmured, drawing my sword.

Frodo quickly unsheathed his short elvish blade, which was the source of the light. The thought of orcs quickly flashed to my mind, before I realized it could not be those foul creatures, because there was still light.

"Run." I called to him, gesturing wildly as I began to hear the sound of many foul creatures coming our way. "Run!"

As soon as he turned to leave, I strode away from the ruins, preparing myself as an entire army appears in front of me, growling and snarling hideously, white hands imprinted on their crude armor. They looked like orcs, but something was much more sinister about them.

I touched my blade to my forehead, before jumping into the heat of battle.

Adonneniel POV

Trembling, I was released from the vision, collapsing in front of the One's throne. The One himself was nowhere to be seen, but I could feel his presence in the room, living and breathing as if part of the moving walls.

At that moment, the fog cleared around the white figure, who sputtered to life, sitting up in the bed. I glanced wearily at the bed, before doing a double take.

I knew that person. I knew him as well as I knew myself, if not better.

His appearance had changed, his grey-tinted hair and beard now pure white, his face serene but still elderly, blinding white robes replacing grey. I wouldn't have recognized him if not for the piercing blue eyes under the bushy eyebrows, exactly the same, yet containing even more wisdom, it seemed.

Olórin.

Aragorn POV

I pushed the dead body of the monster off of me, glancing at Legolas in gratitude. Before he could do anything to answer, the sound of a great horn rang through the forest, making us turn to the direction it had come from.

"The Horn of Gondor!" Legolas shouted, nimbly running over the slippery leaves as Boromir blew the horn again.

"Boromir!" I called, fighting ferociously against the disgusting Uruk-hai.

As soon as I was close enough to see him, however, I knew that I am too late. Three arrows stuck out of his body, dripping blood over the forest floor. A hideous beast stands in front of Boromir, raising a bow, and I do the one thing that came to me.

I tackled the creature, knocking the arrow off course. The Uruk roared, swinging a sword that I managde to deflect, jumping off of the ground. It growled in my face, before pushing me back with a mighty shove, knocking me against a nearby tree trunk.

It then proceeded to fling its shield at my neck, pinning me against the trunk. My eyes widened in surprise and slight fear, desperately trying to push the shield away as the Uruk swung its sword, ready to behead me.

I managed to free myself from the metal shield, hitting the Uruk with my arm only to have him flip me in response. It swung the sword down where I lay, and I quickly dodged it, kicking its legs. I quickly took out a dagger and stabbed the leg closest to me, causing it to grab me by the shoulders, head-butting me. I fell to the ground again, rolling down a narrow slope. Looking up, I saw the Uruk throw the very dagger I had just stuck him with, barely managing to deflect it with my sword.

As the Uruk picked up its sword again, I rose to meet it, going on the offensive despite the complaints from my exhausted body. I hacked off its sword-arm, stabbed it in the stomach, and watched in disgust as it mockingly pulled the sword through its body, leaning in to growl at me with disgusting breath. For good measure, I hacked off its head, narrowing my eyes as it fell to the ground in a heap, dead.

Panting, I rushed to Boromir's side, exclaiming a murmur of disbelief as I saw his wounds to be fatal.

"They took the little ones," he sputtered out, blood covering his lips.

"Be still," I murmured, looking his wounds over, seeing if there was anything I could do.

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

I glanced at the Gondorian's panicked expression.

"I let him go."

"Then you did what I could not," he murmured, some other emotion replacing panic. "I-I tried to take the Ring from him."

I recognized it as intense guilt.

"Forgive me, Aragorn...I did not see it. I have failed you all."

A great flare of sympathy arose in my chest, and I immediately shook my head at that thought.

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor," I argued, reaching out to take an arrow out of his chest before he stops me.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin."

Something broiled in my stomach, and I realized what I would have to say.

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall… nor our people fail!"

Boromir weakly smiled.

"Our people? Our people."

He began to reach for his sword, which I grabbed, helping him clasp it to his chest shakily as his last words came rushing to his lips.

"I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King!"

And then, the great Boromir, Captain of the White Tree and forever my friend, let go of his last breath, leaving this place for the Halls of Mandos. In respect, I raised my hands to my forehead and then to my lips before uttering a blessing.

"Be at peace, Son of Gondor," I whispered, before kissing his brow as if he were my brother.

* * *

We watched the boat carrying Boromir's body sail off the edge of the waterfall, claimed by the raging water. As I stared after it, I noticed Legolas pushing another boat into the river.

"Hurry! Frodo and Sam have already reached the eastern shore," he called, before noticing I hadn't moved a muscle. "You mean not to follow them?"

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," I replied, still standing in the same position.

"Then it is all in vain! The Fellowship has failed!" Gimli bellowed.

I placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."

All of our spirits seemed to pick up, and we moved away to pack up.

"Leave all that can be spared behind. We must travel light if we wish to catch up to them."

I met each of their gazes, excitement running through mine for the first time in a while.

"Now, let's go hunt some Orc!"

Adonneniel POV

My body froze in shock, and I stared in awe at him. He chuckled at my expression, making me feel slightly childish.

"B-b-but you l-let g-g-go," I sputtered out, stuttering in surprise.

He flashed a quick smile at me, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Ah, my dear, but did you not do the same thing as well?"

Oh yes, that was him, alright. My face lit up in a huge grin, and I instantly ran forth to hug him. He returned the embrace tenderly, leaning away rather too quick for my taste, until I remembered we weren't alone. Turning, I watched the spiraling clouds form into the shape of the One again, resting upon his throne.

**Now, Little Dancer, it is time to make your decision. **

I closed my eyes, thinking over everything.

If I went, I would be with my friends, and most of the people I loved. I would get to use my returned powers, and possibly help to save the world. However, I would eventually have to die, considering I would become mortal.

If I stayed here, I would not be separated from my parents again, and I would remain blissfully unaware of everything relating to the war, and stay immortal.

But then again, what would it matter if I was immortal? I was nothing but a soul here.

Also, being ignorant is overrated. I smiled, knowing that it had never really been much of a choice.

"I choose to return to Middle-Earth," I say quietly but without faltering, my greatest accomplishment ever in the One's presence.

**And I wish you the best of luck, Little Dancer and White Wizard. This has always been your fate. **

I looked at my oldest friend, reaching out to hold his hand in mine. As soon as his palm met mine, a blinding white light filled my vision yet again, but this time, it didn't hurt my eyes, and I stared straight into it as the familiar sight of great mountains, tall trees, and watery oceans began to appear once again, reminding me of the song I had just sang.

**When the seas and mountains fall, **

**And we come to end of days,**

**In the dark I hear a call**

**Calling me there.**

I smile, mentally waving goodbye to Anar, knowing I would one day return.

**I will go there**

**And back again.**

But now, it was time to become the Last of the Valar to walk Middle-Earth alone. After all, it was what I did best, showing up at the strangest places at the strangest times.

A/N: that was a ridiculously long chapter.

Anywho, AHHHHH OMG FotR is over! Two Towers is next... Should I make a new story or just add onto this one?

Now, I'm probably going to give myself a break in the space between books, because I've given you guys a chapter a day and it is downright exhausting. But I promise I will have the first chapter of TTT up by the 6th (though probably sooner).

And I also promise that Nen and Aragorn will meet again sometime soon, though probably not the first chapter.

But uh... Nen's back! And so is Gandalf! YAY!

see you all soon! Thanks to all my faithful readers, followers, favorite-ers, and most of all reviewers. You guys inspire me every day to keep writing.

-Archer


	23. Chapter 21

Oh yeah, readers! That's right! Archer's back, which means that the story's back, which means that freakin' Nen's back! WOOHOO! I missed you guys so much...*tear*

Alright, alright, no need to get emotional. Only a certain determined but heartbroken King-to-be needs to do some emotional backstory...heheheheheh.

So, as always, thank you for reading, following, favorite-ing, and most especially reviewing. This story continues because of you guys. Lots of love 3

And now...duhn duhn duhn...

ON! *lights come on*

WITH! *Nen and everyone else scramble onstage*

THE! *they get in their spots*

SHOW! *Let the Hunger Games, begin!*

wait...what? *Oh, sorry, wrong fanfiction. I meant...uhhh...let the battle for Middle-Earth begin! Wait, that's not until the third book...oh dang it. Whatever. On with the show!*

**BOOK TWO (****_The Twin Towers_****)**

Adonneniel POV

We were on a mountaintop. A bloody, Eru-forsaken, snow-covered mountaintop that looked a whole lot like cruel Caradhras.

All evidence pointed to the fact that coming back from the dead is _not _an easy journey, despite how simply the entrance is.

I turned to the side, noting that I was on my back, and came face-to-face with a (once again) unconscious Olórin. He looked very different from when we were both in the One's presence, including the fact that we were both awake at the time. His face was ghastly pale and bloody, his now white hair mangled in sweat, dirt, and blood. This, I could imagine, was what his body looked like now that we were back to where he had died.

Also, I quickly averted my eyes when I realized that we were both completely and totally embarrassingly naked.

Bolting up, I cringed in the cold snow, crossing my arms across my chest in an attempt to remain decent and keep warm. My feet seemed to strangely burn in the snow, and I became all-too-aware that I could now suffer from frostbite, being mortal.

A great pounding filled my head, different from the sound of blood rushing through my ears, and I turned my head, craning my neck to better hear the sound. It was a great noise, somewhat like the rush of giant wings.

Suddenly, there before me came a great being, with a huge wingspan, sharp beak, and even sharper eyes.

An Eagle.

He trained his eyes on me, and I could almost feel the wisdom and strength coming through him.

"I am Gwaihir, descendant of Thorondor," he said, with power literally vibrating in his mighty voice. "I was sent by the Lady Galadriel to bring gifts to you, Adonneniel Swiftarrow."  
"Indeed?" I questioned, smiling slightly. "And what gift is this, mighty Gwaihir?"

The Eagle's eyes glinted, and he raised his talon so that I could see what he was carrying. In his grasp lay something I'd never been so happy to see-clothes!

With a cry of joy, I caught the clothing as he threw them, grateful to see that Galadriel had given me a beautiful, long-sleeved white tunic embroidered with gold thread, a white hooded cloak, a matching set of leggings, and beige riding boots. I quickly put everything on; reveling in the warmth the Elvish clothing gave me.

Gwaihir looked at me with twinkling amusement, and I smiled at him.

"My everlasting gratitude, Gwaihir, for this gift," I said, and watched as his expression changed slightly. "But I suppose this is not the only thing Galadriel sends to me?"  
"No," he rumbled. "I also bring her words and counsel. She wishes to tell you of the next part of your journey, where you will go before you are reunited with your friends. You must travel to Rivendell, and take back with you a being of great intellect and power. His feet are the swiftest to walk Middle-Earth, his back strong, and his mind knows of many things."

My eyes widened slightly, realizing the riddle.

"She wishes for me to meet with the Lord of Horses," I thought aloud, my suspicions proved correct by Gwaihir's nod. "Does she say where I must bring them?"

"Yes. Lady Galadriel said that you are to accompany them to the outskirts of Rohan, where you will be met by two other horses. With these in tow, you will continue to Fangorn, and meet the riders of said horses," Gwaihir concluded mysteriously.

I raised an eyebrow at the vagueness of his words, but did not question them.

"And how am I to get to Rivendell, Windlord?"

If Eagles can smile, I swore he did at that moment. He said nothing, but raised a wing, revealing a creature that he had blocked from my sight.

Standing in the cold snow was a mighty horse, with a coat the color of fire and a flame-like mane and tail. The horse shook the snow out of its mane, and casually cantered up to meet me, pausing in front of where I stood, letting me realize that she was a mare.

**Greetings, milady,** I said in her mind, smiling when I felt the rush of my magic course through my veins once more. **What is your name?**

She held her head high, her intelligent brown eyes twinkling.

**I am Mirunya,** she replied. **You must be Adonneniel Swiftarrow. My Lord has told me of your friend, Mithrandir over there. They are good friends.**

I smiled.

**Your Lord? I assume this is Shadowfax, for I have also heard of him through Mithrandir. **

Mirunya whinnied.

**Yes, we speak of the same Lord. He is my mate.**

My eyes widened.

**Then you are the Lady of the Horses, one of the Mearas! **

I inclined my head respectfully. She did the same, to my confusion.

**You are of as much respect as I am, if not more, Lady Adonneniel-**

** No titles, please. Just call me Nen,** I interrupted rudely.

Mirunya seemed to smile at me with her large brown eyes.

**Then the same goes here, and I am solely Mir. Now, as I was saying, I am honored to carry you, for you are the daughter of Oromë, whose steed is the first Horse, Nahar. **

** And I am honored to ride you, for you are the greatest Lady of Horses,** I replied, everything clicking into place.

Mir turned, waiting for me to climb onto her.

**I believe that we have a journey ahead of us, Nen. We must ride swiftly if we are to go to Rivendell and back.**

I started to walk towards her, but remembered the two other beings here. I turned to Gwaihir, who was already moving closer to Olórin.

"Do not worry about the White Wizard, Swiftarrow. I am taking him now to Lady Galadriel."

Nodding, I went back to Mir, swinging myself onto her back swiftly. She snorted, pushing the snow down with her elegant hooves impatiently. I smiled, tenderly patting her neck before turning to look at my friend once more, noting with relief that Gwaihir was starting to pick him up in his talons.

As Olórin began to wake in the Eagle's claws, I gently whispered into Mir's ear in Elvish.

_"Ride hard, Flaming Jewel. We go to meet the elves."_

And with that, we were off, swifter than the wind.

Aragorn POV

We ran, never tiring, never faltering but for a moment after the orcs carrying Merry and Pippin. Something had clicked in my mind the first day, a determined feeling rushing through my veins, making my endurance last even longer than I had hoped. If Gimli or Legolas ever asked, I'd claim that it was simply my Ranger instincts, kicking in to help me track them.

In fact, that wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth.

What drove me on was the promise I had made to Nen as she had laid on that bed in Lothlórien, to protect what had then been left of the Fellowship where she could not. I had failed to accompany Frodo, and nearly left Merry and Pippin to their demise.

Unconsciously, I reached up to my neck and touched the pendant containing Nen's crystal as I thought about her. It was always cool, comforting against my skin, despite the hammering it got when it bounced against my chest from all the running.

I put my hand back down, making it easier to run, but all the memories I had tried to bury behind came rushing back to me in full force, breaking my heart once again.

_"I can't lose you," I whispered, my eyes soft._

_ "No," She muttered, leaning closer to me to touch the pocket where I carried the shard she gave me. "You will never lose me, so long as you have this."_

_ I raised my other hand to meet the one on my chest, taking the shard out. _

_ "Belthil is not just a rock, you know. It's the representation of my soul. Therefore, even after I am….gone…"_

_ I swallowed hard at that statement, a single tear making its way down my cheek. She took her hand from my chest, raising it to my face to wipe the tear away. I was humbled by the motion, reveling in the feeling of her cool skin against my own._

_ "…you will never be alone."_

_Our gazes met, her vibrant green eyes luring me into their depths. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before, but she really was quite beautiful, and her eyes simply reflected the selflessness in her heart. I realized then that I was inescapably, irreparably, unconditionally in love with a woman who was doomed to d-_

I inhaled sharply, knowing I was torturing myself with these memories, but although I could take myself out of that one, I couldn't help my mind from sinking into another.

_"Come along, Aragorn! We go to meet your kin!" Nen called from somewhere in front of me._

_ I unintentionally stiffened at the casual use of my true name, glaring at the back of my teacher. She, having had much more years of training than me, quickly felt the sharpness of my gaze and turned back, waving gleefully at me under her grey travelling cloak._

_ "By the Valar, Nen…" I murmured, easily catching up to her._

_ She narrowed her eyes at how swiftly I had caught up with her, despite the occurrence haven happening over the last three years._

_ "You stop this at once. Continue any farther past me and I will be forced to call you Strider until the end of your days."_

_ I snorted at her, knowing that she was bluffing, and pushed past her, strangely eager to get on our journey up to the Dúnedain._

_ "I'm not joking! Well, perhaps I am…but I shall encourage everyone else to do so!"_

_ I snickered and continued on, not realizing that she was serious about the last part…or that it would quickly catch on in the next five years. _

I blinked, knowing fully well what had happened at the end of those five years.

_A strange man was walking into the encampment of the Dúnedain, one who hid both his face and nature under a dark grey cloak and wrinkled hat. His eyes, the only things visible even to the sharp gaze of the Rangers, twinkled a wise blue, searching for someone or something among our numbers._

_ I started, realizing that his gaze was falling on _me_, the barely-recognized and barely-come-of-age Lord of the North. I shifted slightly, wondering where on Middle-Earth Nen was, because she usually helped me with the matters of visitors, having most of the time met one or another on her many travels (of which she barely ever talked about, for some reason). The man's face turned to the light, the shadow under his hat fading. He had old, kind features, and his mouth was turned up in a smile._

_ "Greetings, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur and newly inherited Lord of the Dúnedain. Your kin have heard of me in many names, but the most common would be Gandalf or Mithrandir."_

_ I felt my eyes going wide in shock, instantly recognizing the name from the tales of my people, and then I recovered, getting down to business with the traveler._

_ After some time, I went searching for Nen, having attended to Gandalf's needs. I could find no trace of her, despite having checked the usual haunts, until I looked at last in my own tent. There, lying on the bed was a piece of parchment. Unfurling the scroll, I read the hastily scrawled message that had been left for me._

_ "Aragorn-_

_ I had to leave immediately, and no, I can't tell you why or where I had to go. Truly, I am terribly sorry for leaving without a single goodbye, but it is a matter of the utmost importance, and has to do with the fate of Middle-Earth._

_ I'm not joking._

_ I'm wasting time as I continue to write this…something must be done about the situation in…(illegible scribbles)._

_ We will meet again._

_ Nen."_

For the third and final time, I felt myself being dragged out of my memories forcefully by a slight tingling sensation on my chest. Curiously, I looked down at the necklace to see it shining a brilliant light green, surprising me. I cautiously raised a hand to touch it, and shockingly felt not the coolness I had been accustomed to, but a small and almost undetectable warmth. By Ilúvatar, what did _that_ mean?

A/N: Yeah, I know, we're all so disappointed that Nen and Aragorn aren't reunited yet. But you guys forget that it takes four days to get to Fangorn...something a bit less to fly to Lothlorien and then somehow miraculously end up in Fangorn...and like four and a quarter days to get to Rivendell and back, even when riding one of the Mearas.

Don't worry, I've got something epic planned. Next chapter clue: While the Three Hunters continue on their quest after the two hobbits (which leads them to the edges of Fangorn), Nen faces the truth of mortality as she gets Shadowfax.


	24. Chapter 22

Alright, before you kill me, I have excuses. My schedule has gotten overloaded, and if you've checked my profile recently, you'll see that I said I can no longer hope to update more often than weekly. So, I'll try to update once a week, rarely more, and probably sporadically. I'm really, really, really, sorry, but I've got a lot on my plate (including an attraction to other fandoms and a slight case of writer's block).

Also, I made a huge mistake that I've decided to go along with, because it offered a chance to get some character interaction...I accidentally put Shadowfax in Rivendell. Epic fail on my part, because duh, he stays in Rohan, stupid me. Story of how it happened: I was re-reading TTT and I came to the part where Gandalf introduces Shadowfax to Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli and he's like, "It's a long way from Rivendell, my friend." And I didn't realize that he meant himself, not the horse. So, epic fail, and if I ever rewrite or revise this I will fix that.

In addition, it was pointed out to me that I did the entire book in movie-verse, while book-verse is a whole lot more...hmmm...what's the word...uh, cool sounding? The reason for this is because I couldn't find my copy of FotR. I recently bought a combined copy of the entire trilogy for my iPad, and so, I'll be doing a better mix of book- and movie-verse now.

Alright, alright, I apologize again, and on with the show!

**Disclaimer: I, as always, do not own the Lord of the Rings.**

Aragorn POV

Only shortly after Nen's shard had started to get warm, we encountered the first real sign of a trail in a while. Legolas let out a sharp cry, drawing Gimli and I towards him like moths to a flame.

"We have already overtaken some of those that we are hunting. Look!"

Where he was pointing, the hideous bodies of five dead Orcs lay strewn across the ground, causing the ground to darken with their foul blood. I approached them wearily, examining the carcasses with an eye any tracker would be proud of. As Gimli and Legolas pondered on whether or not it had been an enemy of the Orcs who had slain them, I noticed something that made it all clear.

"No," I called back to them. "Seldom do men come here, for it is far from Minas Tirith and even the Rohirrim are scarce. Judging by the lack of the strange Orcs with badges, it is easier to assume that a quarrel occurred. This is not uncommon among such creatures."

Gimli nodded in agreement, before contributing with a gruff voice.

"Let us hope that the captives did not meet an end over such a dispute."

And with that, we were off again, running as fast as our legs could carry us. I, for one, could feel barely any exhaustion in my limbs, but even the rush of exhilaration from tracking would eventually not be enough.

Adonneniel POV

I had to admit, Mirunya was faster than I expected, even for someone who'd been called Swiftarrow for a good portion of her life. We were at the outskirts of Rivendell in a mere two days in the saddle, albeit without much rest.

That was when the effects of my new-found mortality kicked in, unfortunately. Ever since I could remember, I had a relatively high stamina, probably from countless hours of training with the elves. They almost never tired, and as a result, I learned not to as well.

It all went out of the window the day we entered Imladris.

I was thoroughly exhausted, my hair mangled and gross, my body almost as sweaty as Mir's, even though she had worked far harder than I had. As soon as we entered the city's borders, I searched with my tired mind for any knowledgeable mind in the area. Of course, the first one I picked up on was Elrond, who had been expecting me, as usual.

**Adonneniel Swiftarrow…when I was told you were dead, I could not believe it. You are much too stubborn.**

I laughed aloud, making my weight shift a little, which irritated Mir. I gently patted her mane as an apology, and responded to the Lord of Rivendell.

**I take that as a compliment, my dear friend. But I cannot take part in our banter for long, alas! These three conspirators have deemed that I may not stay long: Galadriel, Gwaihir, and the fair Lady with me, Mirunya.**

Elrond's voice took on a more amused tone.

**I assume Lord Shadowfax will be happy to see his mate again.**

As if he had heard Elrond, a high whinny sounded out from somewhere as the city came into view.

"Rivendell," I breathed out, in awe once again of its pristine beauty.

Despite having been in Imladris more times than I could count, it never ceased to amaze me with its glory. I knew fully well how it had managed to remain virtually untouched by the forces of evil…Vilya, the mightiest of all the three rings gifted to the elves, was used by Elrond to protect his realm and the people inside of it.

Speaking of the Lord, I heard his voice again, but this time, much more solemn.

**Things have changed since you went on the quest to destroy the Ring, Adonneniel. I can sense it…**

Aragorn POV

As we continued on our trek, we saw naught but ourselves and the path, and once a great eagle in the sky. Or more accurately, Legolas saw the eagle flying very high and fast towards the North, and neither Gimli nor I could spot it.

After some time, I spotted a small trail of footprints off of the main track, ones that looked very much like hobbit-feet. I cried out for the others to wait, and I narrowed my gaze, searching the trampling for any clue.

Suddenly, my eyes caught a flash of eager light, like that off metal, and I bounded forward. I picked the object up, and to my relief, it was a metal leaf, like that of a beech-tree, beautiful to my eyes.

"The brooch of an elven-cloak!" exclaimed both the elf and the dwarf simultaneously.

I smiled.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall."

We continued on throughout the day and rested at night, with my dreams meaningless and disoriented, ones I quickly forgot in the morning, seeing Legolas awake and concerned.

He turned to me, sadness in his eyes.

"They are far away, too far for any but an eagle to overcome. We rested, while they continued on."

I cursed in my mind, and put my ear to the ground, searching for any sound, anything to help us continue on our path.

Adonneniel POV

Mirunya quietly trotted into the city, and I slid off of her back, watching with a bittersweet smile as she cantered off to meet her mate, all her enthusiasm returned.

"_She is not the only one to miss her other half,"_ a quiet voice murmured behind me.

I turned, and to my surprise, I saw not my old friend, but an almost devastatingly beautiful woman with long, black hair and blue eyes like a summer's day.

Arwen Undómiel, the living replica of Lúthien, bearer of the Evenstar.

She looked at me with an emotion I couldn't place, making me shift uncomfortably on my weary feet, before holding out her hand with something in her pale palm. I looked down, and was shocked to see something I thought I'd never lay my eyes on again.

My staff, with Belthil on the top, shining radiantly as if its-_my_ magic had never left.

Smiling, I picked it up, and suddenly felt a tingling race down my arm, into the staff. Belthil shined brightly, making me look away, and when I glanced back, my staff had changed. It was ivory white now, engraved with green words written in Quenya, Sindarin, Westron…and markings that I could hardly read anymore, I hadn't seen the language in so long-Valarin, the language of the Valar.

"_What…what is this?" _I stuttered, nearly forgetting how to speak.

Arwen tilted her head, and her father came up behind her, gently muttering something in her ear, which made her nod and gracefully float away. Elrond walked up to me, his expression serious.

**There is something very, very different about you, my friend. The presence you sent to my mind was strange, yet not entirely unfamiliar. What happened to you upon your return to Middle-Earth?**

I sighed, and slipped my staff back onto my wrist in its bracelet form.

**Elrond…my connection to the One has been restored. My soul is pure once more.**

He, to his part, only looked mildly surprised, before his gaze went mysterious and unreadable once more.

**This is what concerns me. I am glad you are finally separate from the evil part of you...but my question is, where is Echo now? **

Aragorn POV

Legolas stared at the sunrise, reminding me painfully of the day at the beginning of our quest when Nen had complained of him doing the exact same thing. I shook my head violently, repeating to myself that no good would come from yearning for what is gone.

"A red sun rises," Legolas murmured, glancing a bit towards Gimli and I. "Blood has been spilt this night."

With that troubling thought, we pressed on, and all of us could sense something amiss in the air. All of a sudden, Legolas' pointed ears pricked up, and he stopped behind me, making me strain my own ears to hear whatever he could. Gradually, I began to take notice of a thundering sound, like that of many heavy feet crashing down onto the ground all at once. It grew louder and louder, and I recognized it as the sound of many horses…and where there were horses, there were riders. Riders who might not take it too kindly that we were trespassing into their realm.

I hissed at the other two, and we immediately hid behind some rocky outcroppings, waiting for the Riders to pass.

Adonneniel POV

I furrowed my brow, frustrated. How could I not have thought about this? Elrond shot a worried glance at me, before putting a gentle, calming hand on my shoulder.

"_I have some other gifts for you, Adonneniel,_" he said with a slightly mystifying tone.

He turned; motioning for me to follow him into the brightly lit Hall of Fire, where next to the famous roaring hearth stood a long table. On the table, there lay some familiar things, and some not so recognizable.

I wasted no time to run to my curved swords, turning them over in my hands, relishing the feeling of their handles in my calloused fingers.

"_They are named now, in respect for your self sacrifice,"_ Elrond added, peering at them from behind my shoulder.

He pointed to the one in my right hand, which now had an engraved lightning bolt I hadn't noticed in its hilt.

"_This is Me'urra, and this is Me'urramya."_

The second one had an engraved cloud on the hilt, and I grinned.

"_Thunder and Lightning?"_

Elrond chuckled softly, before we moved onto the next weapon, a marvelously engraved, white bow I had never laid eyes on before. I gently picked it up, and was met with the cool sensation of hard wood, absolutely perfect for archery. Next to it laid a white quiver, with white and green feathered arrows inside.

"_Haldir put this next to you when he thought you were dead."_

My gaze softened, and I carefully put the swords into the scabbard they shared, before swinging the quiver (with the bow inside) onto my back.

"_The Marchwarden is a true friend,"_ I muttered. "_A bow of the Galadhrim is a gift to marvel almost no other."_

"_You will need it."_

I raised an eyebrow at Elrond, who merely strode away, forcing me to follow after him towards the stables like a helpless puppy.

**This is not the last time we shall meet, Adonneniel. But we will part for some time now, and you must be off.**

Aragorn POV

We watched the Riders gallop past, their eyes searching the landscape but grazing over the rocks where we hid. If we made no sound, they would not find us. Yet, was it a terrible thing for them to know of our presence? For they had ridden long and hard…perhaps they had encountered the hobbits we were hunting.

I stepped out of the hiding place, taking a deep breath.

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the North?" I shouted, gaining their attention immediately.

With surprising speed and strength, the Riders came thundering back, almost instantly surrounding the three of us, and lowering their spears down to our level threateningly. I raised my hands up, showing that we meant no harm, and felt Legolas and Gimli push their backs to mine. One horse, more finely decorated than the others, pushed forward, the Rider on its back taller than the rest.

"What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" he boomed, making me meet his gaze, his suspicious eyes glancing over the Three Hunters.

I said nothing, deciding between telling the Rider the complete truth, or only part of it.

"Speak quickly!"

Before I could say anything, Gimli spoke up.

"Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine."

The Rider's eyes flashed dangerously, and I put a hand on Gimli's shoulder, watching the man in front of us warily. He dismounted, moving closer to us on foot.

"The stranger should declare himself first, but I am called Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark. Do not test me! For I would cut off your head, Master _Dwarf_, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

I furrowed my brow, slight anger rising in me at his comment, but also wariness of the spears around us. Legolas, however, being the passionate elf he is, immediately nocked an arrow before I could stop him.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" he growled protectively, surprising me slightly with how much he and Gimli's friendship had grown.

Nonetheless, I put a hand out on his arm as the spears moved towards him.

"Your pardon, Éomer! But you must understand why we are so cautious and quick to anger. Will you hear our tale?"

He took his hand off of his sword, albeit slowly, and nodded.

"First tell me who you serve. Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"I serve Théoden, King of the Mark, alone. But alas! He does not recognize anyone, even his own kin. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are loyal to those in Rohan, and for that, we are banished."

Éomer's eyes narrowed, focusing on me.

"The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his spies slip through our nets."

My own gaze hardened, and took a step forward, blood rushing through my ears and a strange feeling running through my entire body.

"We are no spies! I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, and the Heir of Isildur. This is Gimli the dwarf Glóin's son, and Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood."

I took a deep breath, calming myself and continuing on.

"We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plains. They have taken two of our friends."

Éomer seemed humbled for a bit, and took off his helmet, making the Riders lower their spears.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two hobbits," said Gimli, raising a bushy eyebrow. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be only children to your eyes," I added quickly.

Éomer's expression turned sympathetic.

"We left none alive, but we didn't see any children with them. The carcasses are there, piled up and burnt, as is our custom. It is possible that you might find their remains there."

A sudden pang of sorrow swept through me.

"Dead?" choked out Gimli, making Legolas put a hand on his shoulder, trying to console him.

I dipped my head, trying to shut out the pain and grief that were threatening to overwhelm me once again. I couldn't let that happen again.

"This is not the first sorrow you have experienced on your journeys, is it?" said Éomer. "You have not told us of all your travels."

I inhaled softly, locking away the pain in the back of my mind once again.

"We set out from Imladris with ten companions, though their business is not to be spoken of. Boromir of Minas Tirith went with us, as did Adonneniel Swiftarrow. Our leader was Gandalf the Grey."

"We know of Gandalf, yes, though his name is no longer in the King's favor. He took the greatest horse, Shadowfax, right out from his nose, and was the only one who could tame him! But who is this Swiftarrow person? Is he or she an elf, a dwarf, a man, or another wizard?"

I looked at the ground for a second, managing to contain the raging emotions inside of me, and quietly responded.

"She was unlike anything I've ever encountered, with the long life and beauty of an elf, the courage of a man, the power of a wizard, and the stubbornness a dwarf. She…and Gandalf…are both gone from this world."

I felt a light pressure on my shoulder, and glanced to my side to see Legolas and Gimli both consoling me, and felt a rush of gratefulness to have such good friends. Legolas flicked his wise eyes to the Rider in front of us.

"You may have known her under a different name," he continued for me. "Perhaps Nielíqui, Echo, the Last of the Valar?"

Éomer's eyes widened.

"The Last of the Valar?" he murmured. "These are indeed strange days. Dreams and legends sprung to life out of the grass! We call her Ed-neowe, meaning 'renewed' in the common tongue. Dead, you say?"

Legolas nodded grimly, and Gimli put in an "Aye."

Éomer's brow furrowed and he whistled for some horses, two of which came bounding in. To me he gave a great, dark grey horse, while Legolas and Gimli rode together, bare-back, on a lighter but fierier one.

"Their names are Hasufel and Arod. May they bear you well and to better fortune than their late masters."

Once we were all on our respective horses (including the Riders), Éomer put his helmet back on his head, the white horse's hair blowing in the wind.

"Look for what is left of your friends, but do not trust the hope. It has forsaken these lands. Farewell!"

With that, he left, and we put leagues between us, for the horses of Rohan are very fast indeed.

Adonneniel POV

I spotted Mir across the stables, nuzzling a gorgeous silver stallion I automatically assumed as the great Shadowfax. They nickered when they saw us, making the corner of my mouth perk up. Quickly, I swung up onto Mir's back, knowing time was of the essence.

**We make one request.**

I looked back at Elrond quizzically, and was surprised yet again to see Arwen standing next to him. He nodded at her, and her blue gaze met my green.

"_We are most certainly not the best of friends, Adonneniel Swiftarrow,"_ she began, forcing me to conceal a snigger that threatened to rise from the back of my throat. "_But I must ask of you this. You are a cherished confidante of my father, and a more than worthy lover of Aragorn son of Arathorn."_

I coughed awkwardly; flustered and embarrassed that nearly _everyone _seemed to know my secret. Arwen smiled at me, before a bit of sorrow crept into her voice.

"_I am sorry for the pain I have caused him, truly. Know this-I was selfish, and did not think of his feelings before my own."  
_A flash of sympathy hit me, and I grudgingly voiced that I forgave her, knowing that she was telling the truth. Elrond put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, reminding me of how he had done the same exact gesture only a few minutes ago to me.

"_He carries our hope, and so do you, Adonneniel,"_ he declared, his gaze going dark and foreboding, reminding me that he had the gift of frequent foresight. "_You will be faced with many trials in the distant future, ones that will test the strength of your love and friendship. If you are to succeed, Last of the Valar, you must heed this words. Never give up hope."  
_ I nodded once, before waving a goodbye and gently telling Mir in my mind that it was time to go. She, Shadowfax, and I sped off, Elrond's words rolling around in my mind, before replaced with excitement.

**I'm going to see Aragorn soon.**

And then another thought, much more worrying and confusing, entered my mind.

**But what in Eru's name is going on between us?!**

**CONTINUED AUTHORS NOTE BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE TALKING SOME MORE:**

So, TTT is going to be a whole lot more dramatic for Nen, because it is conflict, character development, and giant-loads-of-problems time. She's going to be super confused about her relationship with Aragorn, because everybody seems to be giving her the okay and she's like, what the heck? On top of that, there is a whole new sub-plot that's going to be working its way into the story, which is all about Nen. And just cuz I'm such an evil author and I love leaving you in suspense...I've put considerable foreshadowing into this chapter about a huge new development that's about to change _everyone_, and Nen especially.

You've been warned.

See you soon...hopefully!

Cheers, Archer.


	25. Apologies

...

Hi, guys.

Archer here.

I have terrible news, or good news, depending on how you look at it.

I have decided, after months of thinking, that I don't want to continue this story. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting this long for this terrible, abrupt ending, but it's necessary. Why?

A) I've lost all interest in writing this story.

B) I've begun to dislike my character.

C) I can't find time to write anymore.

And...

D) Something else has been rattling around inside my brain (an idea, not a bird or bat).

I have been pondering and thinking and scrapping ideas and coming up with brilliant ones, and have finally created a huuuuuuuge project for myself. It's a great idea, and I can't wait to write it. In addition, I'm not abandoning Tolkien. The first part of this huuuuuge project is set in the Hobbit. And now, you all get a sneak peek.

_ Is this thing on? Hellooooooo? Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3? Potatoes! PO-_

_ Aubrey just yelled at me, if you couldn't hear that. She says you're on. If you can be described as a "you", I mean, it's not like I'm talking to an actual person. Just a camera. Though, of course, someone must be watching this if you can hear me talking, and then, you'd have a ridiculously high security clearance, so you wouldn't even be addressed as a "you"…_

_ Aubrey just yelled at me again. She says I'm rambling. She's right. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I'LL STOP! Now, where was I? Oh yes, I'm supposed to be introducing myself._

_ My name is Dakota Fell, and I'm not telling you my middle name, whoever you are. Really, I'm not supposed to be telling you my name, but it's not like I have an actual filter on my mouth. TECHNICALLY, I'm Special Agent Silver, but that's entirely new and I'm not used to it at all._

_ … _

_ Aubrey says I should shut up and start from the actual beginning. I hate it when she's right._

_ Now, if you DO have enough security clearance to actually watch this video, I'd be surprised if you didn't know anything about us. We are, in effect, the part of the government that doesn't exist. No doubt, you've heard about similar groups. S.H.E.I.L.D, Area 51, MIB, Torchwood, Sector 7, etcetera, etcetera. We are the IYIA, officially the International Youth Intelligence Agency-personally, I think we ripped it off of the CIA-but if you're someone quite high up, you'll know that's just a cover. Truthfully, we're the Inter-Universal Youth Intelligence Agency. _

_ That's right._

_ There most certainly is more than one universe. We, the 'Special Agents', are in charge of maintaining these universes, making sure they don't collide or create a paradox or something._

_ And here's the bombshell…_

_ No doubt, you've heard of hundreds of these universes, and you've never known a thing. You might actually know the entire storyline of these universes, if you're good. How?_

_ Universes are created by imagination that has been documented. Meaning…_

_ Every single written article in the entire field of reality has a separate universe surrounding it, with some exceptions. Comics are a good example, because they're so many different story arcs creating a single world. So, yeah, Batman and Superman are real, and they exist in the same universe as one another. _

_… _

_…_

_ Has the shock worn off yet?_

_…_

_ Aubrey says I should wait a little longer._

_…_

_…_

_…_

_ Have I mentioned I'm rather impatient?_

_…_

_ Okay, that's enough._

_…_

_ No, seriously._

_…_

_ I'm really bad at this. _

_…_

_ NO MORE WAITING! _

_ So, to recap, my name's Dakota Fell, and I'm a 12-year-old Special Agent working for an agency that doesn't exist._

_ And I've been to Middle Earth._

_ And I'm second-in-command, with virtually no experience._

_ And I've got superpowers._

_ And I'm absolutely, completely, totally insane._

_ You might want to sit down. This is gonna take a while._

Aaaaand, cut!

OOOH, I can't wait! The date for the first chapter of this, which is still currently unnamed, will be coming out in the not-so-far future. Check my profile every week or two, I'll have the date up ASAP!

Love you guys, and if you decide to stop reading my work after this disappointment, I understand, but I hope you don't. Dakota is my favorite character to write of all time, and I honestly think you guys are going to love her too.

Farewell, or welcome.

ArcheroftheLight


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